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Charles Lemuel Thompson 


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CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


BY 
Charles L.' Thompson, D. D. 


The Soul of America 


The Contribution of Presbyterian 
Home Missions. 12mo, illustrated, 
cloth, net $1.25; paper, net 50c. 


A lucid, clearly defined statement of what 
has been done on the North American con- 
tinent, in Home Mission field by the Pres- 
byterian Church. 


The Religious Foundations 
of America 


12mo, cloth, net $1.50. 


**The 400th anniversary of the Reforma- 
tion makes this a timely treatise, as well as 
a storehouse of valuable information—polit- 
ical, historic and religious. . . . A valuable 
cyclopedia of the religious beginnings of our 
country.”"—The Missionary Survey. 





- Digitized by the Internet Archive 
in 2022 with funding from 
Princeton Theological Seminary Library 


| https://archive.org/details/charleslemueltho00thom 

















Charles Lemuel Thon neon 


An Autobiography 


EDITED BY 
ELIZABETH OSBORN THOMPSON 


WITH INTRODUCTION BY 
JOHN A. MARQUIS, D.D. 


General Secretary, Board of National Missions, 
Presbyterian Church, U. S. A. 





New York CHICAGO 


Fleming H. Revell Company 


LoNDON AND EDINBURGH 


Copyright, 1924, by 
FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY 


Printed in the United States of America 


New York: 158 Fifth Avenue 
Chicago: 17 North Wabash Ave. 
London: 21 Paternoster Square 
Edinburgh: 75 Princes Street 


Introduction 


HIS is earth’s story of a soul that never grew 
Ab old. Charles L. Thompson and decrepitude 
were strangers—as much when he was 
eighty as when he was twenty. During his five- 
and-eighty years he saw much of life,—more by 
far than falls to the lot of the average educated 
American. He touched life at a hundred angles 
and drank deep of both sides of its experience. 
Like Paul, he knew how to suffer and how to 
abound. As these pages reveal, he knew the bitter- 
ness of life’s sorrows, as well as the sweetness of 
its joys and the thrill of its triumphs. He knew 
the weakness and limitations of sickness as well as 
the freedom and strength of abounding health. 
Yet the youthful radiance and buoyance of his 
soul remained unchanged. He was a poet, but he 
never sang the songs of gloom. Like all artistic 
natures he was emotional, and had a rare gift of 
expressing emotion in all its shades, but not a tinge 
of pessimism or unfaith or even depression appears 
in his life history. 

This is one of the things that makes us glad he 
has left these memoirs. He tells them simply, 
modestly, and, as all who knew him would expect, 
delightfully. They can be recommended as a cure 


7 


8 INTRODUCTION 


for soured spirits. He took life in a big way and 
never allowed the meanness of petty opposition to 
pull him down from the heights or turn his gaze 
from the face of God. He had opposition, as all 
far-visioned men have, most of it because his ideals 
were too big for some people to understand, but 
when it was especially little and unreasonable he 
went home and wrote a song of radiant trust in 
God and glorious faith in his brethren. He was 
irrepressibly good-natured and great-hearted. 

If this book were a biography instead of an- 
autobiography, one would feel compelled to criti- 
cize it. Dr. Thompson does not do himself justice 
as a leader of men. Only between the lines do we 
get a hint of the vast service he rendered the 
Church of Christ and his fellow-men. The appreci- 
ations appended to the book, especially those of Dr. 
Warren H. Wilson and Rev. Hermann N. Morse, 
reveal something of this side of his life. He was 
one of the great spiritual statesmen of his day. He 
conceived and inaugurated more movements in the 
direction of interdenominational cooperation and 
unity than any other Christian leader of the last 
half-century. They were not flashes in the pan; they 
are living and serving today and growing stronger 
and more useful each year. He possessed that 
rare kind of insight which sees not only need but 
the right thing to meet it. It is not often that the 
Lord makes a poet, an orator and a practical leader 
in one man. When Dr. Thompson retired from 


INTRODUCTION 9 


the General Secretaryship of the Board of Home 
Missions, the General Assembly, which was not 
always able to see the full length of his vision and 
sometimes feared to follow where he blazed new 
trails, put on record this witness to the value of 
his leadership: 


“His prophetic vision and utterance, his inspiring 
leadership, his indomitable courage, his large-minded 
statesmanship, have combined to make his services to 
the Church such as can never be forgotten. The re- 
ligious life of America will be forever different be- 
cause of what he has seen and hoped and worked out. 
Nor is it only in our own branch of the Church that 
his service has had meaning and value. For under 
his leadership, the work has been such that other 
divisions of the Church have looked to the Board of 
Home Missions of the Presbyterian Church for their 
guidance and inspiration. We thank God, that if he 
must lay down his task, it can be with the glad con- 
sciousness that he has served the Church of God as 
it is given to few men to serve her.” 


Charles L. Thompson put his mark on the life 
of America in the period of her greatest expansion 
and the years will not efface it. 


Joun A. Margulis. 


158 Fifth Avenue, 
New York, N.Y. 


Pea dona 

COPD ety 

Ree aya 
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Editor’s Note 
4 bh writer of these memoirs did not 


live to complete them. He had writ- 

ten on them occasionally for several 
years, as his fancy moved him, but he had 
not arranged the material as he would have 
wished it to appear in its final form, nor had 
he put in the many little anecdotes and per- 
sonal touches which would have brightened 
the pages, could he himself have completed 
the work. A few of his poems have been 
inserted in the book, because his deepest 
thought was frequently expressed in verse. 

It is probable that there are many omis- 
sions, both as regards people he loved, and 
work which he performed, which he would 
have filled in if he had fully prepared the 
manuscript. 

He took it with him to the seashore, for 
his hope was strong that the healing breezes 
would give him strength to finish the work, 
and to carry out yet other plans for his life 
here, but in a few days the summons came, 
and he fell asleep, and so slipped away with- 
out suffering, and with the peace that pass- 
eth understanding in his heart. 


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VII. 


Contents 


. Earuy Lire 


A Test. 


. PRINCETON 


Paganini. 


. CINCINNATI 


The King of Glory. 


. CHICAGO 


Psalm CXXI. 


. PITTSBURGH 


Island Lake Camp-Fire. 


TIAN SAS I CTTY 


Nearing Home. 


. THE CENTENNIAL ASSEMBLY 


The Devil’s White Fleet. 


New York 
Sunrise on the Bay. 


. THE SECRETARYSHIP 


Sentinel Rocks. 


. EXPANSION 


To the Absent. 
13 


17 


a, 


45 


59 


73 


87 


D7 


on LOD 


Wiles 


So She 


14 


XI. 
XII, 


XIII. 


CONTENTS 


GROWTH OF DEPARTMENTS. .. . 149 
Harp of ig Ages. 

THe Home Missions Counci, . . 165 
The Sea ts Hts. 

OVERSEAS iti AMM imine One a a tees 
Wireless. 

. FurRTHER WANDERINGS anh ape mart 1 2 4 
The Hills. 

) ORCHARD (NOOK Uitte wi ences 
W ating. 

. A Few of THE EIGHTIETH BrirtTH- 
DAV LETTERS Oey noes on ee 
Retrospect. 

. A Few GENERAL Letters .° . 2255 
A Comrade. 


. APPRECIATIONS Be Ae ct On a 


I 


| RLY LIFE 


hf 


“ 





THE MARCH OF THE YEARS. 


To the beat of a million suns far-flung, 
To the dance of systems wild, 

To the dirge of the bells old Time has rung 
Where the far dead worlds have filed. 


To the throb of the summer flaming high, 
To the tread of the muffled snows, 

To the autumn dash on world and sky, 
To the pulse of the opening rose. 


To the banners of morning streaming far, 
To the brimful cup of the noon, 

To the sinking light of the evening star 
And the midnight’s shadowy swoon. 


To the baby’s cry—to the shout of the boy, 
To the maiden’s ripening grace, 


To the strong man’s grief or his conquering joy, 


To the sigh of the upturned face. 


It is march—march—march—no halt, no pause; 


Eternity’s regulars one by one; 


As they doff their plumes to the changeless laws, 


These years go marching on. 


It is “ Hail and Salute” as they bring our fate— 


The wreath or the punitive rod; 


For they swing—in their sovereign soldier state— 


The guards of the Sovereign God. 


I 
BPARLY CIEE 


WAS born near Cooperstown, Pennsylvania, 
on the eighteenth of August, 1839. At least 
so I have been told. Like a good deal of other 
knowledge this comes from testimony, but I have 
long accepted the truth of it. I know little of the 
place or its surroundings. I have often thought I 
would go back and try to find some footprints of 
the long-gone years. But I have been a busy man, 
and the good time has not come. I am sorry. 
When I was less than ten years old my parents 
decided on the long and daring journey to Wiscon- 
sin. In those days it was an undertaking, a veri- 
table exploration. But my father wearied of the 
hum-drum life in Lehigh County, and so we went. 
As our stage, en route to Allentown, passed the lit- 
tle red school house, the children gathered for a 
hearty salute. They thought me lost to them for- 
ever. AndI was. There was a lump in my throat 
as the stage rolled on, and the school house faded 
from my sight. For years my mind held the names 
of some of my schoolmates, but now they are 
all gone. | 
In those days railroads were an innovation, but 


1) 


18 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


at Allentown we found a little train that took us to 
Elizabethport. From there a steamer carried us up 
the bay to New York. I dimly recall our passage 
up Broadway on the way to the Hudson River boat 
which took us to Albany. The ride up the magnifi- 
cent river was, of course, a wonderful experience. 
There were no trains west of Albany, but the Erie 
Canal served very well. 

One incident remains in my memory. Boylike 
I delighted, in passing under a bridge, to reach up 
and swing for a moment, holding on to the bridge 
timbers. On one occasion I hung on too long, the 
boat passed from under me. It was cling or drop 
into the water. I clung—until some passer-by 
came to my rescue. 

From Buffalo a steamer, the Sultana, (that name 
has lingered all these years) carried us, in about 
four days, to Milwaukee. It was a small town 
then, but full of wonders to my untrained eyes. 
For the summer my parents found a home on a 
farm a few miles out of town. I recall still the 
little house in the clearing in the forest, and the 
farm life, all so new and so fascinating. I have 
ever loved all farm animals. That was my intro- 
duction to them. 

In the autumn (1849, I think) my parents de- 
cided to push up into the new state. I think Wis- 
consin had just emerged from territorial life and 
been admitted into the sisterhood of states. Our 
objective was Fort Winnebago, on the Fox River, 


EARLY LIFE 19 


at the portage made famous by the journeys across 
it of Marquette, Joliet, probably La Salle and 
others of the French explorers. A friend of my 
father kept a hotel there, and that became our home 
for that winter. 

I have no recollection of what was the determin- 
ing factor in that move, but can easily recognize 
the Providence that was in it, and which appeared 
on the trip to the Fort, though it was not recog- 
nized till after years made it plain. A cloak, my 
cherished possession, fell out of the wagon. The 
loss was unnoticed by us until a young man on 
horseback overtook us and returned the cloak. 
That led to an acquaintance, for the young man 
was a Presbyterian missionary on his way to the 
portage. He took an interest in the lad whose 
cloak he had found. He became my friend and 
pastor and guide. To him, the Rev. W. W. 
McNair, a missionary sent out by the Board of 
Home Missions, I owe more than to any other man 
on earth. In his study in Portage, the new town 
just springing up on the banks of the Wisconsin 
River, I learned the rudiments of Latin, and there 
too, early came the thought of the ministry as my 
destined calling. This had long been my mother’s 
hope and prayer. 1 was her only child and this 
was her cherished dream. I can never forget (this 
was at a later time) one cold winter night, in 
McNair’s study when he presented Christ’s claims 
on my heart and life in such earnest, loving man- 


20 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


ner that I bowed with him in prayer, and yielded 
my life to my Lord. I went home under the 
tingling stars of that winter night, singing for 
happiness that I had found my life path. And the 
light on my mother’s face showed that she had 
found the answer to her deepest prayer. 

Before this time, however, the devoted mission- 
ary had seen the need of better school facilities, and 
with the help of some progressive people in the 
community, founded “ The Classical Institute,” se- 
curing for its principal the Rev. John Brittain from 
the state of New York. He was a scholar and a 
born teacher. In a very short time I found my- 
self in the Institute, and there my great friend was 
John Carpenter. Together we had begun our night 
classes in the parsonage, together we entered the 
Institute when Mr. Brittain arrived, together we 
went to Carroll College, and then to Princeton, and 
in a friendship of more than sixty years, we have 
been together ever since. He is a few years older 
than I, and now, in his home in Lincoln, Nebraska, 
after sixty years of active service, still has the joy 
of preaching as opportunity offers. 

The years of the preparatory school passed 
rapidly and happily. I have known, and had share 
in many schools and academies since then. I have 
not known of one in which there was more devo- 
tion to high ideals both for learning and for char- 
acter building than in that pioneer school. But Mr. 
Brittain soon wore himself out and had to lay down 


EARLY LIFE 21 


his work and, after a brief struggle, his life, but 
not until he had made a glorious record and started 
many a boy on a career made possible by his self- 
sacrificing labors. 

In 1855, at the too early age of sixteen, I en- 
tered the Freshman class of Carroll College at 
Waukesha, half advanced. It was a small college 
but had at that time a rather remarkable faculty. 
Dr. John A. Savage, the President, was a man of 
culture, and of most gracious presence; these, 
rather than executive ability, gave him marked suc- 
cess. Among the professors should be named 
Sidney A. Bean, in the chair of Mathematics, a 
young man of splendid gifts and promise who gave 
his life to his country in the Civil War. Prof. 
Edward P. Evans, in the Chair of Modern Lan- 
guages, gave at once distinct promise of the suc- 
cessful career that came to him later. He was best 
known as the editor of the works of Lessing. Ger- 
many was his home in his later years. Prof. C. B. 
Chapman, in the Chair of Natural Science, became 
my close personal friend as an elder in the First 
Church of Cincinnati during my pastorate there. 

My class consisted of only four members. One 
of them, S. V. White, died soon after his gradu- 
ation. John Story, a brilliant mathematician, be- 
came an officer in the United States army, and 
passed away only a few years ago. John Car- 
penter was painstaking and studious, and has been 
the beloved pastor of churches in the middle west. 


22 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


During my pastorate in Cincinnati an incident oc- 
curred which rather truthfully described the differ- 
ence between us. A clergyman from Europe in 
search of funds, for what cause I have forgotten, 
came to me for introductions to friends in the 
Northwest. When he returned he gave me an 
account of his trip. Among other things he said: 

“Your friend in Michigan told me about you 
and a classmate of yours.” 

* Carpenter,” I said. 

** Yes, that was his name.” 

“And what did he say about us? ”’ 

“Well, he said the difference between Carpenter 
and Thompson was this—Carpenter never could 
tell half as much as he knew. And Thompson 
always could tell more than he knew.” 

I confessed that at least half of that discrimina- 
tion was correct. Carpenter always made me think 
of a bottle that had more capacity than outlet. 

Under the guidance of those fine men who at 
that time made up the faculty of Carroll, the col- 
lege years passed swiftly and profitably. In my 
sophomore year I came under the influence of an 
upper classman, who gave me my first introduction 
to literature. Cushman K. Davis was a youth of 
extraordinary brilliancy. He was not much of a 
student, but an omnivorous reader. How far into 
the nights we luxuriated in the pages of Byron, 
Shelley, and the rest. Davis did not graduate at 
Carroll. He became ambitious for a larger insti- 


EARLY LIFE 23 


tution and drifted away to Michigan University. 
In after years he became famous in the political 
world, was a Governor of Minnesota, and later 
United States senator from that state. In the 
Senate he achieved distinction for a brilliant style 
and forensic ability. As Chairman of the Foreign 
Relations Committee, he prepared the indictment 
of Spain on the breaking out of the Spanish- 
American war, which was one of the most caustic 
papers ever presented by a similar committee. 

I had another close friend in an upper class, a 
man of a very different personality. Andrew Wat- 
son had the steady going qualities of his Scottish 
race. Not brilliant, he was a devoted student, and 
an earnest Christian. He was looking forward to 
the ministry, as I was, and so a tie was formed 
between us which was life-long. We were to- 
gether in Princeton, but not much after graduation 
there, because Watson went at once as a missionary 
to Cairo. To that work he gave his entire minis- 
terial life. He was one of the founders of the 
United Presbyterian Mission in Egypt. His in- 
fluence is being perpetuated in his son, Dr. Charles 
R. Watson, who is founding the University of 
Cairo, thus realizing one of his father’s life-long 
dreams. Dr. Watson passed away a few years ago, 
full of years and honors. 

There is little more worth saying of the routine 
of those college years. Part of one winter, to eke 
out my finances I taught a country school. It was 


24 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


in a very primitive neighbourhood a few miles 
away. And I was a very primitive teacher. How 
they endured me is explained only by the fact that, 
little as I knew, it was a little more than they knew. 

College days were enlivened, of course, by those 
inane (I use that word on a pretty long retrospect) 
pranks to which college boys are given. But they 
are scarce worth even an allusion. I suppose it is a 
sign that one is growing old, when one is no longer 
charmed by recalling nights when cocks were sacri- 
ficed to E'sculapius, and fastened on the very top of 
the cupola, or when, after a hard chase, a farmer’s 
steers were captured and forced into the recitation 
rooms to greet the professors in their bovine way 
in the morning. It is one of the penalties of the 
years that such nocturnal employments seem to 
lose their charm as we go on. 

I recall one experience that was less amusing. It 
illustrates our poverty. My chum, John Carpenter, 
and I were bound for our home in Portage. When 
we had bought our railway tickets to Madison, we 
had just one five-dollar bill left. It was my bill. 
We were not worried, for that bill would pay for 
our hotel at Madison, and for the forty-mile coach 
ride the next day I had a pass for myself, and felt 
quite sure that I had influence enough with the 
coach to allow my chum to ride with me on the 
promise of payment when we reached home. At 
Madison we decided to treat ourselves to some re- 
freshments. I presented my lone bill. It was 


EARLY LIFE 25 


counterfeit! We held a hurried council of war, 
concluded to go without supper, but what about 
lodging? We wandered down to the station, found 
an empty freight car, and decided to occupy it. 
Far into the night we became conscious that our 
refuge was moving. A sudden exit, a walk back 
to town, a couple of chairs in a hotel. So we put 
in the rest of the night. Without breakfast we 
started on the long coach ride. Evening brought 
us home with appetites not often achieved, even by 
school boys. 

Graduation brought a red-letter day. It was not 
without sadness. It never is, for boy friendships 
are deep and real, and graduation meant a surren- 
der of some of the ties that had bound us. But it 
was also a day of distinction, one of the few that 
are underscored in a life of long memory. I was 
Salutatorian. I suppose that was intended to say 
that I was the second best scholar in the class or 
the second best boy, I am not sure which. I spoke 
on the “Genius of Poetry.” The manuscript at 
least was beautiful. It was bound with a red rib- 
bon, its cover illuminated by the skillful fingers of 
one of the Classical Institute girls. I am ashamed 
to say I have forgotten her name. The flood of 
years has swept the manuscript away. I wish lI 
had it to try to convince myself that it was not as 
idiotic as I fear it must have been. 


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Psyche and Love went out one day, 
For a stroll to the end of the world; 
To the end of the land and the ocean gray, 
Where the banners of Time are furled. 


And Psyche spake, “It is far and far— 
Will you walk with me to the end?” 
And Love replied: “ Through flood and fire, 

Steadfast I thee attend.” 


So on and on. But there was no flood, 
No fiery baptism came; 

Fair flowers rose from the velvet sod, 
Their color the only flame. 


Perfumes of Kashmir filled the vale, 
The poppies of Ind outshone; 

Till the drowsy god on the flowers fell, 
And Psyche went on—alone. 


I] 
PRINCETON 


Y pastor was a graduate of Princeton. Of 
course that was the seminary for me to 
attend. Toa country boy of barely nine- 

teen, going East and to the historic institution was 
an event of prime importance. No wonder all the 
incidents of the journey are deeply engraved in my 
memory. But they are not worth a record. 

The venerable names which at that time dis- 
tinguished Princeton were not much known to the 
two Western boys, John Carpenter and I, who, in 
the autumn of 1858, sought those classic shades. 
Only a short time, however, was needed to impress 
us with the distinction of being in such company. 
There was Charles Hodge, recognized by all 
Princetonians as the greatest theologian of the 
century. There was Joseph Addison Alexander, 
the man whose voluble learning in the class room 
and whose torrential eloquence in the pulpit almost 
paralyzed us. There was William Henry Green, 
whose Hebrew learning silenced all our linguistic 
achievement, pretty much silenced us altogether, 
when summoned to our feet to explain daghesh- 
forte, or some other oriental mystery. And there 


rae. 


30 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


was that marvel of scriptural memory and of suave 
urbanity, Dr. Alexander T. McGill, whose cordial 
invitations to his house (which we dared not ac- 
cept) gave a touch of humanness to our frigid 
surroundings. 

On the long review I am grateful for two factors 
of the seminary life. First the sense of reverent 
scholarship which pervaded the atmosphere. It 
was earnest and profound, and gave to the student 
a sense of the worth-whileness of theological dis- 
cipline. And secondly, I am grateful for the 
anchorage given me there in a very conservative 
theology. It is true I have long since grown away 
from some of it. It is solemnly true that if I had 
to preach in all its logical consequences the the- 
ology I was taught, | would not dare to preach at 
all. Nevertheless, Dr. Hodge gave me a grasp on 
fundamentals which perhaps has kept me from a 
far-away drift of thought, and which has sternly 
held me to those eternal verities from which no 
science or philosophy of life could ever detach me. 

My Princeton years were formative years, and I 
look back on them with rejoicing that my path led 
me there, and that its traditions remain with me. I 
did not dream then as I struggled with Hebrew and 
theology that I would return one day to receive 
from the hands of the University the gorgeous 
hood of Doctor of Divinity. 

Speaking of that hood recalls to my mind an 
episode of later years. It was on some important 


PRINCETON 31 


occasion at New York University, when the great 
academic procession, in its many-colored hoods and 
robes was winding its way across the campus. As 
I looked at the varied hues, from the brilliant scar- 
let robe worn by Andrew Carnegie, as Rector of 
St. Andrew’s, through all the colors of the rainbow 
to the plain black of the undergraduate, I said to 
my companion in the march, “ Did you ever see 
anything like this? ”’ 

1 never’ did,” he replied," and 1 have had 
delirium tremens twice! ”’ 

But this is an interpolation. 

The solemnity of a theological course was some- 
times varied by excursions into the country, or into 
forbidden speculations on recondite things. One 
of the latter was in the holding of séances with 
spirits. Spiritualism was quite the vogue, so it 
was not strange that one evening a half dozen of us 
gathered about a rapping table. The table behaved 
well for awhile, but under cross examination the 
spirits in it got active, arid set the table into queer 
performances that we could not understand. It 
surely did perform stunts. We all declared that we 
were not consciously moving the giddy thing, 
which stood now on four legs, then on two, and 
tried to stand on three. Dr. Joseph Addison Alex- 
ander had recently died. He could not be far away, 
so we called his spirit. He responded emphatically, 
as was his wont. He said he had a message for 
Taggart. Tag grew pale. Not being a very good 


32 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


student he always was afraid of Dr. Alexander. 
He waited breathlessly. By that time we were all 
hypnotized, and ready to believe anything. This 
was the message: 

“ Study.” 

“ Study what?” we inquired. 

Slowly and emphatically the table pounded out 
the answer: “ Study your Bible.”’ 

That was crushing, for Tag was not a proficient 
Bible student. ‘Tag’s face grew ashen. John 
Frame, with tears in his eyes and stuttering utter- 
ance, (John always stuttered when he was excited) 
broke forth: 

“T say, T-Tag, d-d-don’t you s-s-study your 
B-B-Bible? ” 

That was too much, and we gave way to unhal- 
lowed mirth. It seemed to offend the spirit of 
Joseph Addison Alexander, for he had nothing 
more to say. 

It leaked out that there had been a spiritual- 
istic séance in one of the rooms. But we all lay 
low, and the excitement died out. But no more 
were held. 

It was during my second term at Princeton that 
the stringency of my personal times demanded that 
I should once more inflict my pedagogic immatur- 
ity on an unoffending country school. Carpenter, 
also on account of impecuniosity, had undertaken 
the principalship of an academy at Perrineville, 
New Jersey. That was proper enough, for John 


PRINCETON 33 


was nearly four years my senior, even if he didn’t 
knew much more than I knew. But when, in the 
middle of the term, he was willing to surrender to 
me the honors and emoluments of the academy for 
the remainder of the session, I was confronted with 
the dilemma of undertaking to be principal in a 
school of teachers and pupils as old or older than I. 
But necessity knows neither law nor prudence; I 
undertook the job. It was an experience both 
stimulating and dramatic. My home was at the 
manse, presided over by Dr. Charles Worrell, a 
man of heroic mould of the olden type, a stern man 
who ordered his house, and ordered it to get up to 
a before-daylight breakfast. It was good for me. 
It showed Princeton theology in its practical every 
day working. And it gave me inside knowledge of 
my undertaking, its difficulties and possibilities. 
That my work did not more thoroughly alarm 
me I attribute to my dense pedagogic ignorance. I 
think my most serious alarm came when I felt con- 
strained to discipline a youth about as old and as 
large as I. Pedagogy had not at that time out- 
grown its birch-rod period—at least it had not in 
my thought. The youth had defied my authority. 
I feared I should lose command of the situation. 
Being too crude to realize that there were other 
methods I fell back on the primitive way. When I 
summoned the stalwart country boy to receive pun- 
ishment, there were two frightened boys on the 
floor. If he was as badly scared as I was, I pity 


34 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


him. However we tried conclusions in the bar- 
baric fashion, and my authority remained. I had 
no further trouble and was sincerely sorry when 
the end of the term took me away from the friend- 
ships formed there and back to the austere atmos- 
phere of Princeton? 

In the vacation between my first and second 
years, I became a missionary of the American 
Sunday School Union, to go out west and establish 
Sunday Schools. ‘This for a double reason. That 
everlasting vacuity in my purse remained at its full 
(if such an absurd phrase be allowable) and then it 
was, as it yet is, the standing criticism of Princeton 
that it afforded no chance to practice what had been 
taught. Here was a chance to practice on any com- 
munity I could find. 

My field was Kane County, Illinois. It was a 
beautiful region. Prosperous farmers on every 
hand, their families ought to have Sunday Schools. 
I was there to impress this fact and gather them at 
the school houses to actualize their needs. To be 
sure, in many places there had been Sunday 
Schools. They had not been “ established,” only 
started by some youth as callow as I and as anxious 
to make a record, and the next year had promptly 
died. Very likely mine would experience the same 
fate. But what will the Seminaries do if they can- 
not give the boys a chance to practice. So I prac- 
ticed and enjoyed-it, and added quite a list to the 
sunday Schools on the way to the next year’s Sun- 


PRINCETON 35 


day School cemeteries. No doubt they did good to 
the communities, certainly to the student who 
enjoyed the summer clinic. 

At the end of my second year I was assailed by 
a double temptation to cut my seminary course 
short. The first was the fact that I had become 
engaged to Mary Boyd, the eldest daughter of the 
Rev. Robert Boyd, a well known clergyman and 
the pastor of the Edina Place Baptist Church, of 
Chicago. The matrimonial fever that has so often 
interfered with a curriculum was laying hold on 
me. But a matrimonial fever with nothing to feed 
it would not easily conquer even an impulsive 
youth. However, the first temptation got a power- 
ful reinforcement in a second. During the summer 
I was supplying my home church in Portage City. 
It was a good-sized, prosperous church. It offered 
me a call; the call was flattering; I could give no 
better reason for declining it than the fact that in 
that congregation I would always be “ Charlie.” 
As a matter of fact I was afraid, and probably not 
without reason. Such an experiment is not often 
a success. But now another temptation occurred 
which was not so easily put aside. I was called to 
the little Church at Juneau, Wisconsin. Thus 
doubly assailed I did the possibly unwise thing, 
and on the 18th of September, 1860, was married 
to Miss Boyd, in Chicago, and at once began my 
ministerial work in the pleasant country village. 
But I could not find it in my conscience wholly to 


36 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


give up my seminary course. So we compromised, 
my conscience and I, and I arranged with the Theo- 
logical Seminary of the North West, in Chicago, to 
allow me to pursue the course privately and to at- 
tend the classes the latter part of the term. So, 
while the regular pastor of the Juneau church, I 
became a member of the class of 1861 and gradu- 
ated with it in May of that year. That this plan 
entailed some disadvantages goes without saying. 
I do not recommend it to other students. 

That was a strenuous winter. I preached in the 
morning at Juneau, in the afternoon at Rolling 
Prairie, four miles away, and part of the time in 
. the evening at Horicon, six miles away. Uncle 
James had given me a colt; I rode him to my ap- 
pointments, though he was rather frisky. When it 
got so cold that I was in danger of freezing in the 
saddle, I would dismount, and “‘ Lion” and I would 
race along side by side. ‘wo experiences with that 
colt are worth mentioning. One was in the matter 
of diet. We had had a donation party. The com- 
munity had a plethora of lard and buckwheat. So 
they unloaded on us. ‘There wasn’t room in the 
house for all the buckwheat, so I stored it in the 
barn. As we couldn’t eat buckwheat cakes all 
the time, and as oats were high, the happy thought 
came to me to feed Lion on our store. He seemed 
to thrive on this diet. But after a while he began 
to turn gray; that was premature for a four-year- 
old. I puzzled in vain, then consulted a veterinary. 


PRINCETON 37 


He knit his brows; had never seen a gray powder 
come out on a horse before. 

“What have you been feeding him?” 

“ Buckwheat.” 

The mystery was solved, the colt was coated with 
unbaked buckwheat cakes. 

My other experience was more serious. My 
organist offered me a his sulky, said it was a good 
thing in which to break a colt. Lion had never 
been in harness, I had never been in a sulky, but 
why not? So I hitched, mounted and gave the 
word. Lion was off like a shot; I began to think I 
had a trained horse, he went so beautifully. Sud- 
denly one wheel struck a little stump. But that was 
enough; the high-wheeled thing went over. I was, 
of course, thrown out, and Lion, of course, wished 
to go elsewhere. He kicked till not much was left 
of the sulky. After I had persuaded him to quiet 
down, I led him home through the village, both of 
us crestfallen and sad. After that Lion was a bit 
uncertain. 

My brief service in that village was probably the 
average of the service of young pastors at that 
time. But now reviewing it in the light of later 
experience I can painfully see my failures, not so 
much of the positive as of the negative kind. Mine 
was the only church in the place, there was every 
reason why I should feel charged with special re- 
sponsibility for the whole community. It did not 
press upon me. I was the pastor of a definite little 


38 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


company. ‘Io them I ministered. That is, I 
preached my sermons on Sunday (many of them 
of the vealy sort), conducted a prayer meeting, 
when the weather was favorable, and visited the 
people in their homes with occasional regularity. 
That was all. It was all I knew. If anyone had 
asked me to do more it would have surprised me. 
But in the light of present years I am wondering 
why some sense of obligation to the community did 
not dawn upon me. I would have had a great 
chance. Had I known enough I would have made 
a survey of the pleasant community, would have 
found out all the social as well as the religious con- 
ditions, and would have organized the village for 
self-help along a variety of lines. But it was fifty 
years too early. I missed my chance. I wish I had 
it now; I think I could give that county an 
object lesson. 

The only noteworthy occurrence of that year was 
a supposititious Indian raid. But that was dra- 
matic. It was the time of the Sioux massacre in 
Minnesota. The tidings inflamed our bucolic 
imaginations. ‘The report spread that there were 
Indians in a neighboring town only six miles away, 
who were rising against the white people. Then as 
the news flew from mouth to mouth it became more 
exciting. The Indians were not only burning 
Horicon, they were marching on Juneau. We did 
not stop to consider that there were not enough 
Indians in the whole county to make a march. We 


PRINCETON 39 


accepted the wild story. Every repetition of it 
further inflamed the imagination. The few con- 
servatives who doubted were sent to the rear. 
Panic held the middle of the road. Probably the 
most picturesque figure in the village was the young 
parson, mounted on his half-trained colt, charging 
up and down the street getting fuel for the flame, 
and flinging out the brands, proposing to the 
women and children to seek refuge in the court 
house, and the men to sell their lives at the highest 
market price. This electric atmosphere held the 
village for an hour or two. The tidings had spread 
among the farmers, and they drove into town from 
every direction, armed with old shot guns, pitch- 
forks and scythes. Grotesque and funny enough 
in review, it was dramatic and terrible at the time. 
But presently authentic tidings came from some 
conservative scout who had been brave enough to 
ride out on the road and learn the truth—that 
Horicon was not burned, that Indians were not 
marching on Juneau, but—that one drunken Indian 
had attacked the pony of a German neighbor for 
trespassing on his forty acres! Then “silence, 
like a poultice, came to heal the ’’ discordant village 
noises. ‘The excited groups scattered. The parson 
stabled his colt.’ Gradually the village settled to its 
normal quiet, broken only by an occasional remi- 
niscent laughter as we realized the colossal magni- 
tude of the village imagination. 

In 1862 I was called to Janesville, a thriving 


40 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


little city of ten thousand people, in southern Wis- 
consin. It seemed like a long step from the village 
to the town. I went with fear and trembling. 
They had had brilliant preachers. One of them 
had published a volume of sermons! So with great 
hesitation I accepted and entered on a delightful 
five years in that beautiful town. I have had a 
number of sessions, never one of finer metal than 
that Janesville session. My congregation was com- 
posed of unusually intelligent and cultured people. 
Altogether my job was one of special difficulty for 
an inexperienced and immature preacher. I have 
often wondered how they endured me. They were 
probably making generous allowance for my youth. 
I felt the necessity of doing the best that was in 
me, and as it was before the time when ministers 
were much called upon in civic and social affairs, I 
had nearly unbroken time for my study. I looked 
back in later years with much envy on those undis- 
turbed days. They laid the foundation for much 
of the work of following years. Young preachers 
make a great, often fatal, mistake in fleeing from 
quiet days in rural life to the exactions of more 
prominent positions. 

This was the time of the Civil War. I had a 
minute share in it. There was a loud call for 
sanitary measures. Mrs. Colt, a woman of great 
executive power and personal charm, was Chair- 
man of the Sanitary Commission of the state. She 
and I arranged a speaking campaign in many Wis- 


PRINCETON AY 


consin towns to stir up patriotic enthusiasm, and 
secure contributions for the Sanitary Commission. 
The campaign was warmly received and did some 
good toward the end in view. It also did me good. 
It gave me platform experience, of which I had had 
little, and somewhat prepared me for the extensive 
platform work of later years. 

It was during my life in Janesville that I 
dropped into poetry, and began by publishing a 
number of poems in the Janesville Gazette, under 
the nom de plume of “'T. Templeton Tibbs.” At 
the close of the war, a prize of fifty dollars was 
offered for the best poem on the war. Mine took 
the prize and was read at the dedication of the Sol- 
diers Home in Milwaukee, but I seem to have 
lost it. 

In addition to preaching in my own pulpit, I was 
in a sense a Chaplain of the Institute for the Blind, 
where I preached once a month. The interest to 
me in this service was the quick response in the ani- 
mated faces of my audience. Their ears did double 
duty, and I have never had better pulpit reaction 
than from that alert little congregation. 

An ever memorable event occurred in 1865. 
Early one morning one of my parishioners came to 
ask me to attend the funeral of his child. He 
was deeply agitated. I expressed my sympathy. 
“Yes,” he replied, “ but there is worse news, Lin- 
coln was assassinated last night.” 

The grip of that great man on the hearts of 


42 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


people everywhere was touchingly illustrated in the 
grief of my caller. The loss of his child was over- 
whelmed by the awful national calamity. A few 
days after that, I saw Lincoln for the first time. 
He was in his coffin in the Court House in Chicago, 
where a vast multitude bowed in the common sor- 
row of the nation. 

In a variety of ways my Janesville pastorate was 
good training. I look back on it with unalloyed 
satisfaction. ‘The sadness of it comes when, on re- 
visiting the scene of labors fifty years ago, I am 
confronted with the desolations the years have 
wrought. Only a few remain to help me recall the 
blessed associations. 


{il 
CINCINNATI 


PAGANINI 


He shambled awkward on the stage, the while 
Across the waiting audience swept a smile. 


With clumsy touch, when first he drew the bow, 
He snapped a string. The audience tittered low. 


Another stroke! Off flies another string! 
With laughter now the circling galleries ring. 


Once more! The third string breaks tts quivering strands, 
And hisses greet the player as he stands. 


He stands —the while his genius, unbereft, 
Is calm; one string and Paganini left! 


He plays. The one string’s daring notes uprise 
Against the storm, as if they sought the skies. 


A silence falls—then awe; the people bow, 
And they who erst had hissed are weeping now. 


And when the last note trembling died away, 
Some shouted “ Bravo!” some had learned to pray. 


Til 


CINCINNATI 


N the spring of 1867, I was surprised by an 
invitation to preach in the Old First of Cin- 
cinnati. I knew little of Cincinnati, next to 

nothing of the church. Why should they go to 
Wisconsin to ask an unknown country preacher 
to occupy their historic pulpit, even for one Sun- 
day. The manner of it leaked out later. Dr. 
Chapman had tried to beat a little chemistry into 
my head during his professorship at Carroll Col- 
lege. I was not aware that he knew me as a 
preacher. He knew I was a failure in chemistry. 
Only by the remotest flight of fancy could he from 
that failure even guess that possibly I could preach. 
At any rate, he took the risk. He was at that time 
a lecturer in the Miami Medical College, in Cincin- 
nati, and an attendant at the First Church. So my 
invitation came about. It was a scared young 
preacher who stood, one bright Sunday morning, 
in the pulpit of that large auditorium and con- 
fronted what was left of the historic congregation. 
The War had divided the church. Dr. Samuel Wil- 
son, their pastor, a man of great strength, was on 
the Southern side. He resigned and went to Ken- 


45 


46 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


tucky. Many of the congregation disappeared. 
But there was a remnant according to grace. The 
faithful few stood solidly by each other and by the 
church. ‘They called me and I accepted. I look 
back on my temerity with astonishment. Only the 
rashness of youth could explain it. Had I been 
wiser and more calculating, I would have hesitated 
and declined, and so would have missed one of my 
greatest chances. “ There’s a divinity that shapes 
our ends.” 

It was hard for me to leave my Wisconsin home, 
but I went under the compulsion of the feeling that 
as I had had no hand in “ the call,” the great Mas- 
ter must have meant it. I can scarcely realize that 
it is fifty years ago when, little more than a boy, I 
undertook what seemed like a forlorn hope. But 
the handful of people rallied around me and the 
work grew beyond my hopes. However, in time it 
dawned upon me that the only chance of real suc- 
cess in such a field, and at such a time, was in a 
complete face-about. The church had been con- 
servative to a degree. The people had been satis- 
fied with themselves, and made of the church little 
more than a close corporation. Necessarily it was 
a diminishing corporation. The pressure of busi- 
ness was driving people to the beautiful hills above 
the city. There were still people enough, but of a 
migratory character, hotels and boarding houses 
abounded and were full. In this situation, becom- 
ing constantly more acute, two alternatives, only 


CINCINNATI AT 


two, were open to the church. One was to con- 
tinue the shut-in policy, sit in comfortable pews, 
be content with comfortable preaching, and see the 
church gradually but surely disappear. The other 
was to make a radically new departure, to accept a 
new vision of church responsibility, to acknowl- 
edge that the church is not an end to itself, not a 
field of flowers and fruit, but a force to transform 
a desert. A sense of primary responsibility to the 
community around its doors must seize upon the 
people, and only such enjoyment of religious 
services be accepted as accords with that sense of 
responsibility. 

The young preacher had not been a year in his 
pulpit before he saw what alternative he must ac- 
cept. If his people would go with him, well and 
good. If not, he would have a decision to make. 
But this face-about could not be suddenly accom- 
plished. Impatience must not wreck so important 
an enterprise. An educational campaign must be 
carried on. The preaching was often and steadily 
toward the missionary life of the church. Thus 
gradually a sense of stewardship was developed. 
The people began to feel uneasy in their pews. 
There were multitudes about them for whom they 
were not doing anything. Gradually, at first tim- 
idly, I broached ideas of a larger service to my 
more intimate friends. In some quarters I met 
doubts and questionings. But in others, to my 
great joy, I found response. So after many 


48 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


months of seed sowing I concluded to bring the 
matter to an issue. 

I called the officers together and outlined a care- 
fully prepared plan of operations. It was radical 
enough. In substance I proposed first that all the 
families should surrender their pews. As some of 
the pews were owned this seemed a rather stiff 
proposition. But I insisted if they wanted the 
church to grow it must grow from the elements 
around it. High pew rents would make this wholly 
impossible, any pew rents would make it difficult. 
But the officers said, “‘ We would have no assured 
income. Where would your salary come from?” 

This gave me a chance for my next proposition, 
and I replied, “ I will give up any stipulated salary. 
If you could pay pew rent, you can make an equal 
voluntary offering. I will depend on what you put 
on the plates from Sabbath to Sabbath. If you do 
not put enough on those plates to enable the 
preacher to live, he will understand the suggestion, 
and look elsewhere.”’ 

It should be said the church had some income 
from the rental of contiguous stores, enough to 
pay all expenses outside of salary, so we were in a 
favorable condition to try out the experiment I 
proposed. , 

The third part of my plan was a more thorough 
organization for service, made possible by the new 
program. 

With some hesitation, but with hearty good will, 


CINCINNATI 49 


the whole program was accepted. The pew doors 
were thrown open widely. Through the city was 
circulated the fact that the conservative ‘“ Old 
First ”’ had become a free church, and was inviting 
everybody to come, without money and without 
price. The effect was instantaneous. The congre- 
gation at once increased, but far more than that, a 
feeling was developed that the church members 
were in a campaign,—no longer merely recipients, 
but ministering servants to a community whose 
needs appealed on every hand. As enthusiasm per- 
vaded the ranks, it was communicated to all the 
newcomers, and that year the preacher received 
more salary than ever before. 

Farly in my Cincinnati ministry I was seized 
with literary ambitions, and with three close 
friends, destined to be friends of a lifetime, entered 
on the doubtful experiment of launching a literary 
magazine. When I name my comrades in the en- 
terprise it will be seen that it should have had good 
support. They were the Rev. Oscar A. Hills, 
D.D., pastor of the Central Church, the Rey. A. A. 
E. Taylor, D.D., of the Mt. Auburn Church, and 
Dr. William C. Gray, at that time a printer in Elm 
Street. Our scheme was ambitious,—no less than 
to give the West the best magazine it had ever had. 
We almost said as much in the prospectus. We 
named it ‘Our Monthly.” Not that the title 
wholly pleased us, but we could think of nothing 
better. Our parishioners took the stock, because 


50 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


we asked them to. I was the general editor, Dr. 
Taylor had “ The Miscellany,” and Dr. Hills, the 
profound theologian of the group, by an amusing 
assignment, had the “Children’s Department.” 
Dr. Gray was the publisher, and soon became one 
of the best contributors. His account of an inci- 
dent at the beginning of our enterprise may be 
worth recording. 

‘““When the first form of type (sixteen pages) 
of the first issue was sent to the press, a rough 
sheet was pulled and sent up to the office to see that 
the pages were properly imposed. Just then Dr. 
Taylor came in, and when he saw it, exclaimed, 
‘What is that?’ I told him that it was the first 
sheet of ‘Our Monthly.’ He fairly blazed with 
indignation. ‘You don’t dare to say that that’s 
the way you are going to print it! That’s not 
printing, that’s daubing! ‘That’s atrocious! We 
won't stand it!’ I told him that the printing 
wasn’t very good, but that it was a good deal better 
than the literature. He stamped off to the back of 
the building to collect his thoughts. The pressman 
had meantime been diligently at work and soon sent 
up a perfect sheet. Dr. Thompson came in just 
then, and seeing it said: ‘ Why that’s beautiful— 
the type shines like diamonds’; and, seeing Taylor, 
started toward him. The two met halfway. Tay- 
lor spoke in suppressed tones of wrath. 

“* Why, I don’t think so,’ replied Thompson 
cheerily, ‘I think the printing is splendid.’ 


CINCINNATI 51 


“*You think it is splendid —think it is splen- 
did!’ said Taylor, looking at him in amazement. 
‘Thompson, you have not a bit more sense than 
Gray has.’ ” 

Financially our venture was not a success. In- 
deed, we did not expect it to be. Our motive was 
altruistic. The west needed good literature. We 
would furnish it. The names of a few of our 
writers will show that at least we were on the right 
road. Thus William Cullen Bryant, John Hall, E. 
D. Morris, EF. D. Mansfield, William Henry Green, 
Howard Crosby and David Swing are only a few 
stars out of a shining galaxy. Nevertheless, it was 
not a money maker. After a year and a half of 
delightful experience we sold out to the Martien 
Publishing Company, of Philadelphia, in whose un- 
fortunate hands “ Our Maggie”’ soon had a grace- 
ful and peaceful exit. As we looked back we 
consoled ourselves with the reflection that every 
professional man should have some side interest. 
We had ours. That it was good for our congre- 
gations [am not so certain. It monopolized a good 
deal of our time. The best asset, as I regard it on 
this long retrospect, was the enduring friendships 
there formed. “ Our Quadrilateral,’ as we called 
it, was bound in the closest bonds. In after years, 
though widely separated, we met occasionally 
around a dinner table, and gave an evening to joy- 
ful reminiscences. Dr. Gray’s swan song on the 
last of these occasions comes so near to being good 


52 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


poetry that I fancy some of his many friends may 
enjoy the reading. 


And thus, Oh! friends, we celebrate 
With quip and jest 

The wreck of plans and hopes that once 
We deemed the best. 


And as the gleaming palaces 
We toiled to rear 

With barbicans and cornices 
Dissolve in air, 


And corridor and bartizan 
And springing rafter, 

We blow away their falling dust 
On gusts of laughter. 


The residue is gems and gold 
Untouched by time, 

Mined in the bright eternal hills 
By hands divine. 


Friendship and troth and faithful love, 
In crowns of bands— 

These shall we wear here and above 
In God-lit lands. 


My work in Cincinnati was difficult but encour- 
aging. The free church experiment was a marked 
success. It also gave me experience in a kind of 
preaching unknown to me before. I was after 
people; it meant a struggle. My sermons became 
less rhetorical (a temptation to which I had easily 
yielded) and were more practical and direct. In 


CINCINNATI 53 


illustration of directness, at a time of some reli- 
gious interest, I was preaching one evening to a 
very large congregation from the text, “Thou art 
the man.” Driving my points home as directly as 
I could, I exclaimed, throwing my hand out to the 
congregation, “Yes, thou art the man.” The 
pause that followed was broken by a cry from a 
man near the rear of the congregation and a sob- 
bing exclamation, “ Yes, I am the man.” He came 
out into the center aisle and up toward the pulpit, 
repeating, “I am the man.’ One of my elders 
gently drew him down beside him. He continued 
to sob for some time. It was moments before I 
could resume my sermon. After the service he 
remained for conference and prayer, his contrition 
was deep and apparently genuine. With a solemn 
promise to lead a new life, he left us, for he was in 
the city only for that night. 

Alas, that threads of influence cannot be fol- 
lowed! The incident found its way into the news- 
papers, and I was called on for special services, 
among others to speak to the police force of the 
city in one of the theatres. It was a most unusual 
congregation, I have not seen one like it since. I 
spoke on the detective power of sin, from the text, 
“ Be sure your sin will find you out.” I never had 
better attention than from those men who wore the 
detective star on their breasts. Again we cannot 
follow the seed sowing to the harvest. 

So the years passed happily, but they were draw- 


54 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


ing on the young pastor’s reserves. In addition to 
my parish work, and my literary work there were 
many calls for outside lectures and addresses. I 
was working so close to the margin of my strength 
that prolonged vacations became necessary. Grad- 
ually the need of change was forced upon me. I 
had a number of offers that would give me a 
change, only one of which made any strong appeal. 
That was a call to the principal church of Louis- 
ville. Its terms were very generous and its tones 
were enthusiastic. On my visit to the church, I 
was received with genuine southern welcome. For 
some relief from the exactions of my free church 
enterprise I was strongly inclined to accept. But as 
a northern man, I was not sure that I would be at 
home in the new environment. I therefore regret- 
fully declined the call, and buckled on the armor 
for my exacting task. 

Soon after that I came near to a nervous col- 
lapse. My work increased but my strength did not. 
Thus there are many entries in my journal like 
this: “ Yesterday I preached for three-quarters of 
an hour with some freedom and without manu- 
script from the text, ‘ Against thee, thee only have 
I sinned.’ Then went up to Orchard Street anni- 
versary exercise, where I made an address. Re- 
turning, I went to the Fifth Church Sunday school 
and gave another address. Was much worn out, 
but went home, took an hour’s rest and a cup of 
tea. Then went to my evening service and 


CINCINNATI 55 


preached for nearly an hour to the largest congre- 
gation I ever had.’’ Had I had better “ terminal 
facilities ’’ perhaps I and the people had been less 
fatigued. 

About this time my friend Dr. Gray had been 
called to Chicago to dig “ The Interior ” out of the 
ruins of the great fire. He was anxious that I 
should follow him. The Fifth Church of that city 
was vacant. He suggested my name. A com- 
mittee came to Cincinnati and I was called. The 
northwest was more like home, I felt the pull of it, 
and after some hesitation, I accepted, though I 
loved my work in Cincinnati, and there I had ven- 
tured on a form of church work which was destined 
to have an important influence on after years. 





IV 
CHICAGO 


THE KING OF GLORY. 


Lift up, lift up your heads ye gates, 
Ye everlasting doors, 

The King of Glory cometh in 
Across the star-strewn floors. 


Lift up your heads ye lowly gates 
Of toil and pain and sin, 

Where heavy ages bound you fast, 
And let the King come in. 


“Who is the King?” Behold the marks,— 
His face is scarred with pain; 
The dews of night are on his locks 
Where he has watched in vain. 


“Who is the King?” Behold the crown 
Of thorns that pierce his brow, 
The sceptre of the broken reed— 
These are his symbols now. 


But swing your gates, oh, hopeless ones; 
Within your lowly door 

The King of Glory cometh in, 
Your King for evermore. 


EV 
CHICAGO 


CAME to my Chicago pastorate in 1872, the 
year following the great fire. It was a year of 
turmoil and changes. The church to which I 
went was not very strong. It worshipped in a 
frame building on Wabash Avenue. A short time 
after going there we bought a brick building on 
Indiana Avenue, a better location, but with a build- 
ing still inferior, and it was uphill work. Just then 
a somewhat serious accident laid me aside for a 
time. My father was bringing my horse and a new 
carriage from Milwaukee by steamer and I went 
down to meet him. It was a dark and stormy night. 
Driving down Michigan Avenue an omnibus col- 
lided with my carriage and threw us all out on the 
pavement. I landed on my head and became un- 
conscious, remaining flighty for a day or two. 
During that time Dr. Gray often called or sent to 
inquire regarding my condition. On recovering I 
went to his office to thank him for his kind atten- 
tions. He waived it all aside with the remark, 
+ Oh, it wast thatiat all? 
“ Wasn’t what?” I asked. 
“Wasn't love. You remember when you came 


59 


60 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


to Chicago you were hard up, and I divided my 
loaf with you. I knew if you died I should never 
see any of that again, so 1 was anxious.” 

Two important church events marked those 
years. The first was the great revival under Mr. 
Moody. ‘The tabernacle seating ten thousand peo- 
ple was packed day and night. I have been in many 
revival movements since, but none has so im- 
pressed me with a sense of divine power at work 
on the hearts of people as did those meetings. 
Without clap-trap or nonsense, without stage tricks 
or undue appeal to the emotions, Mr. Moody re- 
mains to my mind the prince of evangelists. The 
results were deep, widespread, permanent and only 
good., There were many dramatic illustrations of 
the transforming power of God’s spirit. 

The following story is worth a mention: An 
Trish lady of fine bearing and culture had fled from 
her beautiful Irish home and her second husband, 
on learning with horror that her first husband, 
whom she had supposed dead in Africa, was alive 
and coming home. It was a genuine Enoch Arden 
case. She had a son in Chicago. She came to 
him. Unhappy, distressed, she sought the Moody 
meetings. Coming to me after one of the services 
she unburdened the whole story. Her son was in 
my congregation. Both were converted and with 
many others joined my church the same day. Then 
her one passion was to heal the hurt of her heart 
by doing good to others. She began as a Bible 


CHICAGO 61 


reader in the city prison. With camp-stool and 
Bible she went from grated door to door opening 
to the poor inmates the joy she herself had found. 
Her work and her signal power attracted the notice 
of Frances Willard, who induced her to take the 
temperance platform. In this work she attracted 
wide attention as a lecturer of singular magnetism 
and persuasive power. She came to me one morn- 
ing to say that she was on her way to Bay City to 
lecture, and then with striking seriousness she 
added, “I have a feeling that something is going 
to happen to me, and I came in to ask you, if my 
presentiment comes true, that you will keep an eye 
on Frank” (her son). I promised but made light 
of her fears. The next day I received a telegram 
from Bay City saying that Mrs. M. had been killed 
by a fall down stairs, and asking me to break the 
news to Frank. An impressive sight at her 
funeral was the presence of a number of men who 
had been prisoners at the city jail, to whom she 
had preached the gospel and who came to testify to 
their love and gratitude to one who had helped 
them over some of life’s hard places. 

Many similar incidents could be written down. 
One, the memory of which is always with me, was 
the case of a young man to whom Mr. Moody 
asked me to talk in the inquiry room, and who 
startled me by saying that he had robbed an Ex- 
press Company in Cleveland and was a fugitive 
from justice. I refused to hear his confession till 


62 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


we had called Mr. Moody. Together we prayed 
with him that he might have strength to do what 
was right. He appealed to us to tell him what he 
should do. Mr. Moody replied, 

“T will not tell you what in a like case I would 
not be willing to do myself. Ask God.” 

With no urging from us, he made up his mind to 
take the next train to Cleveland and surrender him- 
self to the authorities. For himself, he said, he 
cared little. But his mother—it would kill her. 
But he went. At the tabernacle that evening Mr. 
Moody handed me a telegram from the young man 
saying that he knew he was doing what God would 
have him do, and asking our prayers. He was sent 
to the penitentiary, but within those gloomy walls 
he lived a Christian life. He wrote me occasion- 
ally telling of his joys amid his sorrows. One day 
I received a letter, the first sheet written by him- 
self, breathing an unshaken trust in God and re- 
joicing in the new life he would live when his time 
had expired. The last sheet was written by his 
sister, telling me that a sudden illness had taken 
her brother, but that he had died in peace and 
triumph. Such victories are the best apologetics. 


The other historical occasion during my Chicago 
ministry was the trial of David Swing for heresy. 
Its effects were sad and far reaching, hastening, I 
trust, the end of such trials in the Presbyterian 
Church—in any Church. That it was the first of 


CHICAGO 63 


several succeeding trials does not break the opti- 
mism of the preceding sentence. The more of 
such trials we have, the sooner the end of them 
will come. 

As is known, Prof. Francis L. Patton prosecuted 
David Swing on several counts, the chief of which 
was that he denied the divinity of Christ. It was 
all a mistake. Swing was a poet, Dr. Patton was 
a theologian. Those two cannot be successfully 
hitched up together. It was difficult for Swing to 
affirm or deny any theological tenets. It was diffi- 
cult for Patton to find any sound theology in 
Swing’s poetic flights. So the fierce battle was 
joined in the Presbytery of Chicago. I have never 
heard a more brilliant and powerful forensic than 
the indictment by Professor Patton. When he fell 
back exhausted by his tremendous presentment we 
were nearly as ready to vote Professor Swing 
guilty of all misdemeanors as was the British 
House of Commons to so vote on Hastings when 
Sheridan, closing his indictment, fell into the arms 
of Burke, who (as Macaulay says) “ hugged him 
with generous admiration.” We were not quite 
ready to hug Professor Patton, but there could be 
no doubt of the generous admiration. We had not 
then heard Dr. George C. Noyes in his rejoinder. 
The indictment was all in vain so far as the Pres- 
bytery was concerned. It knew David Swing and 
made allowance for his beautiful vagaries, but on 
an appeal to synod he was condemned. 


64 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


I had been brought up under conservative teach- 
ing. At Princeton I imbibed the theology of Dr. 
Hodge, one of the most godly men I ever knew. 
But gradually I veered away from the extreme con- 
servative position and became a moderate liberal. 
I helped to defend Swing in his main contentions, 
though conscious that his poetic temperament led 
him often into vague statements which could easily 
be interpreted as heretical. 


As a result of the Swing trial a large number 
of the Chicago pastors became so dissatisfied with 
the course of The Interior, of which Dr. Patton 
was editor, that they proposed to found a new 
paper which should express the sentiment of the 
liberal wing of the Church. The movement came 
to the knowledge of Cyrus McCormick, the owner 
of The Interior, who sent for Arthur Mitchell, 
the best beloved of our pastors, to see if something 
could not be done to avoid having two rival papers, 
when even one was not self-supporting. Dr. 
Mitchell maintained that the paper was needed. 

Then Mr. McCormick asked, ‘‘ Well, what will 
satisfy your” 

Mitchell replied, “An equal share in the man- 
agement of the paper.” 

This seemed entirely fair to Mr. McCormick and 
he agreed to accept as co-editor with Dr. Patton 
any man whom the Chicago pastors might name. 
They named me, and I added this editorial work 


CHICAGO 65 


to my church work in the hope of promoting har- 
mony in the Presbytery. 

When Professor Patton and I met to arrange 
details, we came to a block on the question of 
editorials. He desired that all editorials should be 
personal, and signed by the initials of the writer, 
saying, ““ You don’t want to be responsible for my 
editorials, and I don’t want to be responsible for 
yours.” 

This I declined to accept, and said in my reply, 
“Harmony is the purpose of the new plan. We 
must not advertise that we cannot trust one 
another.” 

As we were both equally determined, I notified 
Mr. McCormick that [ could not accept the edito- 
rial position. On being informed of the reason, he 
decided in favor of the unsigned editorials. So the 
Professor sent me a note saying, “All right, 
Thompson. Let it be unsigned editorials, and we 
will not quarrel oftener than we can help.” 

On this basis he and I got along beautifully. I 
did not always agree with what he wrote. I have 
no doubt he often disagreed with what I wrote, 
probably had good reason to disagree. But wé 
managed to keep our differences out of the paper, 
and on the whole those were happy days. Dr. 
Patton, however, did not long maintain an active 
interest in the paper. His editorials became in- — 
creasingly infrequent. Often on Monday morn- 
ings Gray and I were obliged to rush in some 


66 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


unexpected matter of our own. The astute Mr. 
McCormick, after a while, took cognizance of the 
situation. He issued a new order. Instead of the 
salary we had been paid, he ordered payment by 
space, so much a column. Then I had the ad- 
vantage. The editorial columns had to be filled 
and perforce I made the money. Dr. Patton soon 
wearied of this plan and notified me that he had 
sent his resignation to Mr. McCormick. On my 
inquiring why, he replied, “I refuse further to 
write by the yard.” 

I worked on alone for a few months, then Mr. 
McCormick, that the conservatives might not be 
without a representative, named as my coadjutor 
another professor, Dr. Leroy J. Halsey. Until I 
left Chicago, we worked together in perfect 
harmony. 

During all these years, Dr. Gray was the man- 
aging editor. He generally managed the editors as 
well as the contributors. My fellowship with Gray 
then, and afterward, constitutes one of the sweetest 
memories of my life. I have known many editors, 
religious and otherwise, but I have never known 
one who had such a combination of editorial quali- 
ties. His wit was genial and if need be sharp; his 
retort swift and keen, his advocacy of any cause he 
espoused fearless and uncompromising and his 
treatment of all his comrades generous and chival- 
ric. To a fine scorn for sham and pretense he 
added a consideration for the feelings of others 


CHICAGO 67 


which was tender as a woman’s. He was equally 
at home handling a stiletto to prick the skin of an 
opponent, or a bludgeon to crush his skull. When 
he died, a prominent minister of our Church said 
to me, “ Years ago Dr. Gray attacked me severely 
in The Interior, and then wrote me, ‘ You may 
have four columns for a reply and not a word from 
me afterward.’”’ How characteristic of the man! 


During my Chicago residence I took up author- 
ship. In addition to my editorial labors I wrote 
“Times of Refreshing,” a history of American re- 
vivals. ‘The book was called for by the religious 
activities following the Moody meetings. It was 
therefore temporal and had no extensive sale, 
rendered even less extensive by the failure of the 
publishers. 


About this time I went into the lecture business. 
A few of us who were close friends formed a tri- 
umvirate. Dr. William Alvin Bartlett was the 
brilliant pastor of the Plymouth Congregational 
Church of Chicago. Dr. Charles H. Richards was 
the popular pastor of the Congregational Church 
in Madison, Wisconsin. We three determined to 
replenish our purses and incidentally to enlighten 
literary audiences in Wisconsin and Minnesota. I 
have forgotten the themes on which my partners 
descanted. My favorite subject was “ The Wives 
of Men of Genius,” in which I traced the experi- 


68 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


ences of the unfortunate wives from Xanthippe 
down to modern times. This lecture I have given 
a multitude of times both east and west. Our tours 
were fairly successful, though I had some peculiar 
experiences journeying in those northern states in 
a severe winter. On one trip our engine was 
stalled by a great snow storm, and landed me in 
Eau Clair just in time to see my audience, weary 
of waiting for hours, going home. 

But the most amusing experience I ever had in 
the lecture line was when I yielded to the seductions 
of a gentleman of engaging address who came to 
me one day with the proposition that he should be 
my advance agent for a lecture tour. He offered 
flattering financial returns and incidentally a good 
deal of reputation. Our first city was to be Louis- 
ville, Kentucky. My agent went south ahead of 
the time, and I followed. When I reached the 
beautiful southern city I was nearly paralyzed to 
see the ways in which I had been advertised. 
Buffalo Bill could scarcely beat it. From show 
windows and from the backs and fronts of “ sand- 
wich-men,”’ everywhere I turned I found myself 
placarded as “ The Henry Ward Beecher” of the 
west, not to hear whom would be nearly a national 
calamity! I had some friends in Louisville; I was 
mortally afraid I should meet some of them. I 
got nervous under the ordeal and dodged down 
side streets whenever I saw the inevitable sandwich 
man. By the time of the lecture I was pretty near 


CHICAGO 69 


a collapse, but I struggled through before a com- 
fortable audience. 

The next night was at Indianapolis. I avoided 
the sandwich man by arriving late. I might as 
well not have arrived at all. I was scheduled to 
appear in the Academy of Music with a three thou- 
sand capacity. I faced a beggarly audience, a mere 
corporal’s guard, scattered around the auditorium. 
They listened patiently, perhaps pityingly, while 
my literary chariot wheels dragged their heavy 
rounds through the hour. The Indianapolis 
Journal prefaced a kindly mention of the lecture 
by the statement that the speaker had no occasion 
to be proud of his audience. I took the first train 
for Chicago, having broken promptly with my ad- 
vertising agent. Poor fellow, it was not wholly 
his fault, nor poor me was it wholly mine. It was 
partly his fault for making a fool of me, and 
partly mine for consenting to be made a fool of. 
However let us accept such an experience as “ nor- 
malcy ’ for ambitious young people. What a pity 
there is not some easier schoolroom than that in 
which Dame Experience presides. 


My mind goes back to the Chicago of fifty years 
ago, and dwells upon some of the ministers of that 
day. Robert W. Patterson, D.D., was the Nestor 
of the group. I do not recall the length of his 
notable pastorate. It was long enough to make 
him the prime minister. He had all the gifts and 


70 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


graces necessary for his leadership. A man of 
sound and strong convictions, of courtly presence 
and bearing, and of a mind so judicial that he easily 
led in the plans and policies of the Presbytery. 

An amusing incident occurred one day when he 
invited my friend, Dr. Oscar A. Hills, of Cincin- 
nati, to occupy his pulpit. Dr. Hills was a man of 
meek and apparently weak physique and of a very 
ladylike voice in conversation. Dr. Patterson 
began to be anxious lest he had made a mistake, 
whether his preacher could possibly be heard. 
After Hills had led in a very quiet and gentle 
prayer, Dr. Patterson leaned over to him and said, 
“ Brother Hills, there is something peculiar in the 
acoustics of this building. It will perhaps be well 
if you raise your voice.” 

Dr. Hills thought there must be something un- 
usually peculiar in the structure of that building, 
so he let his voice out. Now the gentleness of his 
voice was wholly a thing for personal conversation. 
It had tremendous capacity when he pulled out all 
the stops. On this occasion he pulled them all out. 
The solemn sound rolled and thundered and echoed 
around the arches. And the church had good echo- 
ing capacity. So, as the sermon rose, the thunders 
increased, Dr. Patterson was aghast. He regretted 
that he had admonished the preacher who was 
making so much noise that pastor and people scarce 
could hear him. Dr. Hills, however, with Dr. Pat- 
terson’s admonition in mind, was anxious lest he 


CHICAGO 71 


hadn’t spoken loud enough, so after church he 
asked a friend whether the audience could hear him. 

“Hear you,’ was the reply, “the dead heard 
you.” 

I have mentioned the name of a pastor who came 
a little later, Dr. Arthur Mitchell, of the First 
Church. He had all the qualifications for a happy 
pastorate and was universally beloved. He, too, 
was a man of convictions. With them was united 
a suavitor in modo which drew people to him and 
held them in the bonds of a great affection. He 
was, however, able to show a righteous indignation 
on occasion. He told me once of a time when it 
served him well. The First Church at that time 
had a heavy debt, which burdened the pastor’s 
mind. One day, passing the church, he was sur- 
prised to see a stone cutter at work, carving a 
scroll on the brown stone coping. The thought of 
the debt set him on fire. He called up to the 
workman with one emphatic word, “ Stop.” The 
workman, surprised, looked down on the small 
man on the sidewalk who had ordered him to stop. 

“ And who are you that you should be ordering 
me to stop?” 

“T am the pastor of this church, and I tell you 
to stop.” 

The tone was too imperious to be disregarded. 
The workman put up his tools and stopped his 
work. The result is still evident, or was a few 
years ago when I was passing by. The scroll was 


72 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


unfinished ; it stopped exactly where Mitchell said 
it should. 

Another of the strong men of those days in the 
Chicago pulpit was Dr. Monroe Gibson. He was 
one of Mr. Moody’s valued helpers in the great 
revival. A virile preacher and a great scholar, he 
was popular not only in the Second Church, but 
throughout the city. From Chicago he returned 
to his native land to assume the pastorate of St. 
John’s Wood Presbyterian Church, of London. 
There in a long and fruitful pastorate he did a 
most notable work, and has passed recently to his 
reward. 

Dr. Abbott E. Kittredge was a good preacher, 
but he was a great pastor. The old Third Church 
prospered steadily under his ministry. He knew 
the subtle art of winning people by revealing a 
deep and affectionate interest in them. When he 
went to New York his place in Chicago long re- 
mained vacant. The friendship formed when we 
were pastors together in the West was happily con- 
tinued in the East when our churches were not far 
apart on Madison Avenue. Memory pleads for 
further recognition of these personalities. They 
cannot be written here, but they are written on tab- 
lets from which no lapse of years can erase them. 


V 
PITTSBURGH 


PSALM CXXI1, 


The Lord is thy keeper and his shade 
Attends thee on thy way. 

The moon shall not thee make afraid, 
Nor sun smite thee by day. 


The Lord from evil shall keep thee, 
Thy soul he watcheth o’er. 

Coming and going he shall be 
Thy keeper evermore. 


V 
PITTSBURGH 


N the spring of 1878, I received an invitation 
from the Third Presbyterian Church of Pitts- 
burgh to preach for them. I went, knowing 

little of the church, except that it was one of the 
leading churches of the city. That my old friend, 
Dr. Hills, was then a pastor in Allegheny made me 
more ready to go, and at least have a visit with 
him. I was warmly received and after returning 
home received a unanimous call. I was loath to 
leave the great city of the West. It was bound to 
me by many precious friendships and associations. 
The rush of its mighty life attracted me. But I 
had in various ways been diverted from my calling 
as a preacher, and the opportunity which seemed 
open in the Smoky City to give myself without dis- 
tractions to the one business of minister of the 
gospel finally decided the case. So, though it 
pulled my heart strings, severing many close ties, 
and especially breaking my close friendship with 
Dr. Gray, the call was accepted. The week of my 
leaving he published a poem, the first lines of which 
ran thus: 


i 


76 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


God go with thee, C. L. T. 
Bowling down the iron track, 

Forty miles an hour from me, 
And—I know it—looking back. 


My welcome to Pittsburgh was all that could be 
desired, but I regarded my new task with a good 
deal of apprehension. The Third Church had had 
a notable history. Within its walls the union of 
the Old School and New School was consummated 
in 1871. Its pulpit had been adorned by famous 
preachers. Dr. Matthew B. Riddle, in his day, 
was a power not only in the Third Church, but 
throughout the city and western Pennsylvania. 
Dr. Henry Kendall, after a remarkable pastorate 
there, went to his yet greater work in the Board 
of Home Missions. Dr. Herrick Johnson, Dr. 
John De Witt, and Dr. Samuel H. Kellogg gave 
added luster to the historic pulpit. Was not the 
very mention of this galaxy enough to make a 
young preacher afraid—one who was still in his 
thirties. 

In addition, the old Third was somewhat run 
down. Dr. Leonard Bacon, a brilliant Congrega- 
tionalist, had been supplying them for half a year, 
but had done nothing more than preach. A pre- 
vious pastor had alienated some of the members, 
chief among them that great philanthropist, Wil- 
liam Thaw. When I went it was a question 
whether he would come back and renew his inter- 


PITTSBURGH 77 


est. One of my first Sundays I sought an offering 
for Home Missions, and the session was greatly 
encouraged when his check for a thousand dollars 
was found in the plate. From that time he became 
one of my strongest helpers. I never appealed to 
him in vain, often getting more than I asked. 

He was vice-president of the Pennsylvania Rail- 
road and supplied me liberally with passes. The 
general manager of the road, Mr. J. D. Layng, 
was similarly generous. For example, when my 
wife was ill and needed a change, Mr. Thaw sent 
me a note saying that Mr. Layng’s private car 
would be attached to the night express, and would 
be at my disposal, with anybody I chose to invite. 
He added that we need make no provision for the 
journey, that Mr. Layng’s cook would be on the 
car, and the larder would be well provided. And 
indeed it was. At Trenton the car was detached 
and made a special to Atlantic City. In fact the 
track was cleared and we were driven through on 
faster time. This is only one illustration of the 
many kindnesses shown me by these railroad 
magnates. 

Our work prospered from the first. Although it 
was getting to be a down town church, there were 
still a great many strong men in it. The equipment 
was excellent, a goodly corps of workers was de- 
veloped, the congregations grew, and the benevo- 
lent work was large. 

My fellowship with other ministers was delight- 


78 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


ful. Of course there was Hills, always my friend. 
Had he not met his wife at my house? My nearest 
ministerial neighbor was Dr. Sylvester F. Scovel, 
of the First Church. Against his protest we called 
him “doctor” because of his scholarship and his 
good fellowship. Up to that time he steadily re- 
fused the title, but later when he became president 
of Wooster it was forced upon him, though always 
worn under protest. He was a good comrade, at 
once the gentlest and the most unyielding of men. 
He could be stubborn with such Chesterfieldian 
grace that it almost seemed to be gracious pliability. 
I sometimes used to say to him that it would be 
money in his pocket if he didn’t know so much. 
Which rather stupid remark meant that the very 
fullness of his knowledge somewhat deflected him 
from the directness of his aim. His fullness at 
times overflowed the banks of pulpit discourse and 
wandered far afield. It was always interesting, but 
sometimes after an hour’s talk, he would give a 
startled glance at his watch, and remark that, not 
having compassed his theme, he would resume on 
the following Sabbath. He was a most self- 
forgetful student and reader. Coming into his 
study one morning I found him with a worn ex- 
pression as if he had been out all night. On inquiry 
into the cause of his battered appearance, he con- 
fessed that the preceding evening he had become 
interested in looking over the back numbers of 
“The Christian Statesman,” a publication of The 


PITTSBURGH 79 


National Reform Association, had in fact, become 
so absorbed that he was unconscious of the flight 
of time till the morning bell struck six o’clock. 
When I expressed my admiration at such devotion 
to research, with only a bit of surprise at the type 
of literature that had such enthralling power, he 
stoutly maintained that the night had not been 
wasted. 

He was a delightful neighbor. We became es- 
pecially intimate when, as members of a committee 
of the trustees of the Western University of Penn- 
sylvania, we went east in pursuit of a chancellor. 
It was a delightful experience, though we soon 
found it was no easy job. We visited Princeton, 
New York and New Haven, but all in vain. Our 
interview with Dr. McCosh, at Princeton, was es- 
pecially interesting. He received us most gra- 
ciously and we explained our errand. We must 
have a chancellor of uncommon gifts and varied 
capacity. Whom would he suggest? In his broad 
Scotch he expressed a very kind desire to help us, 
and after a pause for thought he said he would 
nominate two men. ‘That was hopeful; we really 
wanted only one. His first nominee was the Rev. 
William C. Roberts, of Elizabeth, New Jersey. 

“What are his qualifications? ” 

“ Weel, he is chairman of my committee on the 
curriculum. He knows my ideas, and will be 
quite weel fitted to apply them to your Western 
University.” 


80 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


“But what about his administrative gifts? ” 

“ Oh, I don’t know about that, but he will be 
quite able to expound my ideas of education.” 

“ Well, Dr. McCosh, who is the other? ” 

“Tt is the Reverend Dr. Simon J. McPherson, 
of Orange, New Jersey. He was a student here. 
I examined him for three hours on the Scottish 
philosophy, and two hours on the Kantian, and he 
stood it very weel, very weel indeed. I think he 
would do very weel. He is weel fitted to teach 
philosophy in your college.”’ 

“Which Orange does he live in? We under- 
stand there are several.” 

“Oh, I don’t know which Orange. You will 
find that out.”’ 

We did not at once follow up either of those 
lines. Perhaps because it was the judgment of the 
trustees that our chancellor must have, among other 
qualifications, a strong capacity for getting money. 
We doubted whether familiarity with the Princeton 
curriculum, and with the Scottish and German 
philosophies would secure the necessary funds. 

As chairman of the committee, I also approached 
Dr. Francis Brown, of Union Seminary, who after- 
ward became a dear personal friend, but he was 
averse to leaving his scholarly career for one of 
administration. In this he was wise. 


The man we finally secured became, later, a 
prominent educator. One day when I was con- 


PITTSBURGH 81 


ferring with William Thaw, who was a chief factor 
in the Western University, I said, 

‘I have a friend in the Ohio pastorate who, in 
my judgment, would be worth considering for the 
chancellorship, the Rev. Henry M. MacCracken, 
of Toledo.” 

After a few questions, Mr. Thaw said, “ Send 
for him.’”’ An invitation to visit the University was 
sent to him. He came promptly, made a favorable 
impression, and was soon inducted into office. His 
term of service, however, was short. I was sur- 
prised one day by a letter from Dr. John Hall, of 
New York, making inquiry about our Dr. Mac- 
Cracken. They wanted a vice-chancellor for New 
York University, and his name had been suggested. 
In reply I said a number of good things, and in a 
short time he was chosen to that office. He went to 
New York, where he made a distinct success as an 
educator. Dr. Howard Crosby was at that time 
the chancellor, but his other responsibilities were 
pressing hard, and on his resignation Dr. Mac- 
Cracken was chosen to succeed him, and for about 
twenty-five years conducted the affairs of the Uni- 
versity with marked success. He was especially 
fortunate in securing some large gifts and in es- 
tablishing the University in its present commanding 
location. He originated the idea of the “ Hall of 
Fame,” and secured funds for its erection. If it 
shall ever come to be an American Pantheon of let- 
ters, his name always will be associated with it. 


82 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


During my four years in Pittsburgh every thing 
was harmonious. There was never any division of 
sentiment, though many of my men, like General 
Moorhead and William Thaw, were accustomed to 
have their own way. The church counted in its 
membership many of the leading men of the city in 
business and professorial life. The man, who per- 
haps will be acclaimed as the leading spirit in the 
history of the church was William Thaw. He was 
a liberal giver to all good causes, one of the most 
generous I have ever known. Nor have I known a 
clearer headed and stronger business man. He 
would have made a fine secretary of state. 

Talking with him one day about his many bene- 
factions, I asked him how he was able to respond 
to such continuous calls. He tossed the question off 
easily, “Only habit, nothing else.” 

“But,” I persisted, “how did you get the 
habit ?’” 

“Well,” he replied, ‘‘ when my wife and I were 
married I was a clerk on a thousand dollars a year. 
We began then to tithe that income. Ever since 
the more I gave, the more I had. I have only been 
trying to keep up with the Lord.” 

Another man whose friendship I prized was 
Professor S. P. Langley, who died of a broken 
heart, because of his apparent failure as the in- 
ventor of aeronautics. 


In 1882 I was elected a commissioner to the 


PITTSBURGH 83 


General Assembly meeting in Springfield, Illinois, 
and was appointed one of the speakers at the popu- 
lar meeting for Home Missions, the other principal 
speaker being my old friend, Dr. Samuel J. 
Nicholls, of St. Louis. I do not know how, but in 
some way my address attracted the attention of the 
Second Church of Kansas City, whose pulpit at 
that time was vacant. They asked me, before re- 
turning home, to give a lecture in Kansas City. 
With no knowledge of their purpose, I accepted 
and talked to a large audience on “ Wives of Men 
of Genius.” 

They promptly pressed on me a call to their 
church. They were just completing a handsome 
new building. The city was on the eve of great 
prosperity. The congregation contained many of 
the most prominent men in the city; and the call 
was attractive. However, I saw no reason for 
leaving Pittsburgh, so without giving them any en- 
couragement I went home and settled down to 
work. Ina few weeks a committee of three, S. B. 
Armour, H. EF. Holden, and Major J. K. Thatcher, 
appeared and announced that they had come to 
Pittsburgh to stay till they had my acceptance. 
They persuaded me that a large and effectual door 
was open for me in that western city, and after a 
struggle, I sent my acceptance. 

Mr. Thaw, my friend and adviser in all impor- 
tant matters, was ill at the time, so I could have no 
conference with him, but later I went to his bed- 


84 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


side to talk it over. He relieved my embarrassment 
by saying that he had heard I was behaving badly, 
and then went on to consider the matter so defi- 
nitely from the side of personal friendship as quite 
to shake my decision. In answer to my remark 
that the Third Church was fast becoming a down 
town proposition, and that when he and a few 
other liberal men went away, the work would be 
under serious handicaps, he went so far as to say 
that if I would remain, he would personally relieve 
the pressure of such handicaps. But he was a large 
man and viewed the situation in the light of the 
Kingdom. He finally said, “If your duty seems 
clear to you, go and God bless you. We are work- 
ing for the Kingdom, the locality is a minor 
consideration.” 

Not all the church officers took so kindly a view. 
I remember when I broached the subject to the 
session General Moorhead was unable to restrain 
his feelings. He abruptly left the room, slamming 
the door behind him. When I had preached my 
farewell sermon from the text, “Be ye therefore 
steadfast, unmovable,” the General came forward, 
and with much heat and an emphatic gesture ex- 
claimed, “ Why were not you immovable?” It 
suddenly occurred to me that my text had been 
somewhat blunderingly chosen. 


VI 
KANSAS CITY 


ISLAND LAKE CAMP-FIRE. 


Red Mars is flaming overhead, 
The camp-fire flames below, 

The moon has pushed her silver barge 
Into the sunset glow; 

The shadows of the sounding pines 
Sweep down the silent lake, 

While ’gainst and over them the waves 
Of firelight-fall and break. 


Closer the circle draws tts lines 
In this cathedral dim, 

While down the nave the priestly pines 
Chant soft their evening hymn. 

No time is this for common speech, 
No place for idle word, 

Our spirits feel the holiness 
By which the leaves are stirred. 


This is the oldest house of God, 
Star-tapers stately burn, 

And whispers of the angels seem 
To move each leaf and fern. 

So lower sink our voices awed, 
We talk not of to-day— 

As the fire falls to a softer mood 
Above the ashes gray— 


But of olden days, and voices hushed, 
Of burdens, cares and griefs, 

Of hopes that rose as rise the sparks, 
Of faith and faith’s relief. 

And there as swaying pines revealed 
The steadfast stars above 

We owned the light above the shade, 
And whispered “God is love.” 


Red Mars hung low, the woods above, 
The pines had ceased to sigh, 

And Silence with her blessing closed 
The Night’s deep litany. 

The fire sank to ashes gray, 
The figures one by one 

Slipped silent from the spent camp-fire, 
And left the Night alone. 


VI 
KANSAS GUD: 


HE, change from Pittsburgh to Kansas City 
was more than a change of locality. It was 
from a staid and settled community to one 

in the forming. It already had the snap and ginger 
characteristic of the West. It also had some of the 
inconveniences of newness. Dr. John Hall once 
told me of a visit he made to that city, some time 
before my going there. As he was about to leave 
the hotel on Sunday morning for a walk to the 
church in which he was to preach, a messenger 
came to him to say that it would be out of the ques- 
tion for him to walk, the mud was too deep. But 
they had provided a very docile and comfortable 
horse which the preacher must mount, and in that 
unusual style be carried to his service. The good 
doctor was wholly unused to that kind of convey- 
ance. He was, moreover, of such ample propor- 
tions that he hesitated to impose himself on the 
animal. But the messenger, who indeed was one 
of the elders, was very insistent, the horse was 
waiting at the block, the church bell was ringing, 
there was no alternative. He felt as though he 
were heading a procession! 


87 


88 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


But was it not beautiful to see a city in the 
making, and to have a small share in that making? 
Under the inspiration of that thought inconven- 
iences and difficulties disappeared and a very happy 
ministry was begun with enthusiasm. ‘The first 
service was held in the new church, a fine building, 
seating a thousand people. Then and steadily 
thereafter it was full, often crowded. The prayer 
meetings were also large, many coming who had 
not often attended such a service. But the church 
was new and was not organized for work. Its re- 
sources were large, but had not been drawn upon. 
That, therefore, was my first care. ‘The people 
were pliant and responsive. So in a very short 
time I was as much at home as I had been in any 
congregation. 

In less than a year a great sorrow came upon me 
in the sudden death of my wife. Ill only a few 
days, an affliction of the heart, which had often 
threatened, carried her away. We took her to the 
family lot at Waukesha, where lie my father and 
mother and some of my children, and where I 
hope to rest, when the long journey ends. Even 
this sorrow bound me closer to my people. Their 
sympathy was generous and affectionate and 
greatly helped me during those trying years. 
My dear sister-in-law came to me and took 
charge of my house. In a short time she be- 
came engaged to and married one of my best 
church officers, Charles H. Doan. Their happi- 


KANSAS CITY 89 


ness was brief. In less than a year, pneumonia 
took him away. 

The next year the church sent me to Europe. It 
was my first touch upon the old world. There is 
nothing like a first trip to Europe, its “ first care- 
less rapture’ cannot be repeated. My son, Robert, 
was not well, so he accompanied me. We took, of 
course, the ordinary well-beaten path of travel, but 
to me it was as if the road had never been traveled 
before. I have gone many times since in much 
more extended ways, but a certain vividness has 
never been repeated. On returning I took up my 
work with new courage and zeal. As in my other 
charges, various outside enterprises interested me. 
Among them was Park College, of which I became 
a trustee. I have known many educational institu- 
tions and have been connected with several, but 
none where the spirit of sacrifice and devotion to 
high ideals—educational and religious—were so 
conspicuous. E,very visit to its halls, and the visits 
were many, sent me back to my work with renewed 
appreciation of the worth-whileness of a college 
where high ideals are of more account than high 
endowments. What a monument to the faith, cour- 
age and devotion of one man. The spirit of John 
A. McAfee still rules its destiny. 

I also became interested in starting a college for 
young women at Independence, a suburb of the 
city. The generous gift of a friend made such an 
institution possible. A beautiful property was se- 


90 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


cured and a creditable faculty. I was president of 
its board of trustees and for a while gave it a con- 
siderable portion of my time. It did much good, 
but its resources were insufficient, and when hard 
times came it passed into other hands. Of its 
recent history I am not informed. 

While these and other like interests engaged me 
to a greater or less degree, I gave myself to careful 
pulpit preparation. At this time, as for years 
before, it was my habit to write the morning ser- 
mon and deliver it from the manuscript, but only 
after making myself familiar with it. My evening 
sermon was usually without notes, or with only a 
few guide posts to keep my preaching on the track. 
This habit held me to some precision in thought and 
diction as well as certain freedom of utterance 
which gives the firmest hold upon an audience. It 
is risky for a young preacher to throw away his 
manuscript, it is perilous to stick to it. 

So generous was the cooperation of my people 
that we were able to do a great deal of work in 
church extension. The rapid growth of the city 
made it essential. We started mission work in new 
centers of population and had a large part in 
founding new churches. It was a great privilege to 
have had a little share in the early development of 
a city that now stands well up in the list of our 
great cities. Its location is one secret of its power. 
It is in the very center of the richest and most pro- 
ductive sections of our country. The progressive 


KANSAS CITY 91 


character of its population yet further explains its 
standing. Its men of affairs have always been 
men of vision; they are planning a civic center 
which will be unsurpassed; and the environs of the 
city it were difficult to match in any other part of 
our country. 

Many years ago Dr. Timothy Hill, the great 
home missionary, who had founded hundreds of 
churches in the Southwest, stood at a window look- 
ing out toward the rich prairies of Kansas. “ How 
beautiful,’ he exclaimed with enthusiasm, and sank 
back into the arms of Death. Those who today 
would take an outlook on the future of that central 
city may well exclaim, “ How beautiful! ” 


During one of my vacations, Dr. Gray tele- 
graphed me to accompany him and a few friends to 
northern Wisconsin for a camping expedition. 
The decision was easily made. I had on several 
occasions camped in Wisconsin, an ideal state for 
that purpose. So my son and I were soon on the 
way. The spot selected was on the Brule River 
among beautiful pine woods, trout streams and 
lakes. Others of the party were Harvey C. Olin, 
Captain Sanderson (Rev. Joseph W.) and his wife. 
Barring the mosquitoes we had a glorious time. 

One day Mrs. Sanderson and I would go a fish- 
ing down the Brule. The accommodating train 
took our boat on board, and several miles above 
camp let it down into the river. It was a winding 


92 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


stream, so it turned out to be an unexpectedly long 
way to camp. We drifted, it seemed endlessly, 
noon came, but no sign of camp. We grew weary 
and hungry. As the thought of the distant camp 
came to me, I sang, “‘ Oh, for the wings of a dove,” 
which brought from Mrs. Sanderson the laconic 
remark: “ Wings wouldn’t satisfy me now. I want 
the whole dove.”’ It was late in the evening when 
we drifted into camp, to be jeered for our appetites 
and our lack of piscatorial luck. 


Another day, Gray and I decided on a hunt. 
Shouldering our guns we pushed for three miles 
down the Gothic aisles of the glorious pines and 
came on a beautiful lake. There we found our 
Indian guide, Edward, and soon were paddling 
down the lake. At its lower end we waited for the 
night. It came with showers, but we lit our bow- 
lantern and started. For hours we skirted the 
shores in utter silence. There was neither sound 
nor sign. At last, after midnight the monotony 
was startlingly varied. What seemed like coals of 
fire burned near the water’s edge. Edward saw 
them, too, for though no word was spoken, the 
canoe veered toward the shore. Presently the coals 
of fire rose a few feet, and I knew them for the 
brilliant eyes of a deer. It was an exciting moment. 

On starting out I had said to Gray, “ You take 
the rifle” (we could use only one) “and I will 
hold the light.” 


KANSAS CITY 93 


“Oh, no, you take the gun, and I will hold the 
light,” Gray replied politely. : 

He said afterward he knew at the time what 
would be the penalty of his politeness. But, to use 
a western phrase, by offering first, I had the drop 
on him. So the gun was in my hands. It seemed 
impossible to lift it to my shoulder. Hunter’s 
paralysis had seized me, the weird beautiful sight 
entranced me. At length Edward whispered, 
“ Shoot,” and Gray stammered, “ Shoot.” In des- 
peration, probably with closed eyes, I pulled the 
trigger. There was a splash in the water, and a 
crash among the bushes. The canoe shot to the 
bank, and Edward, turning to Gray, said, “Old 
man, you stay here.” 

Gray said it was the first time he was ever called 
“old man.” 

Edward and I had gone but a few steps when he 
paused, examined twigs and then pointed to drops 
of blood on the leaves. We had wounded the poor 
fellow. After a few rods more the guide seemed to 
lose the trail, looked perplexed and then said, ‘‘ No 
find him. I come tomorrow, maybe find him,” 

I did not suspect Edward then. I thought he 
was a good Indian. So we paddled to the landing 
and Gray and I found camp toward morning. 
After a few hours of rest, I said: 

“Gray, I am going back to the lake. I believe 
that deer can be found.” 

We went. At the cabin, Edward’s wife said he 


94 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


had gone down the lake. After waiting some time 
we saw Edward’s canoe come into sight. It ap- 
proached for a time then suddenly disappeared 
around a headland. We said, ‘‘ What is the matter 
with Edward, why doesn’t he come on?” Pres- 
ently, however, his boat again appeared and soon 
he ran it up the sand. 

“ Where is the deer?” I asked. ‘‘ No find him,” 
was the only reply to my repeated questions. 

So we had to be content. On the way back, 
Mrs. Sanderson, who had accompanied us, said, 
“Edward has your deer. He came into sight, 
Saw us waiting, darted back into the woods to hide 
the deer, and came back empty handed.” 

The more we thought it over, the more sure we 
became that Edward had seen the deer where it 
fell, had suddenly decided that the booty were bet- 
ter than the money for his services, and so led me 
away. On breaking camp a few days later and 
coming out, we learned that Edward had recently 
been in the village and had sold a beautiful buck. 


On June 30, 1887, I was married to Elizabeth 
Paget Osborn, daughter of Prof. Henry S. Osborn, 
of Miami University. I therefore took a vacation 
of unusual length, and our summer down the St. 
Lawrence, Montreal, Boston and Nantucket was a 
series of delights. On our return in September, I 
resumed my work, which continued increasingly 
prosperous. 


VII 
THE CENTENNIAL ASSEMBLY 


NEARING HOME. 


“ He is rapidly failing,’—so smooth came the stroke 
Down the telegraph line. Through the silence it broke 
On a heart well-inured to such crashes ere now. 
And yet, it was strange! That father whose brow 
Was held clear toward Heaven and level to men 
Through the storms that blew out of the threescore and ten, 
Whose strength seemed perennial like that of the pine -— 
“Fle is failing,’—strange words down the telegraph line. 


Groans the train through the night, through city and land; 
The race is with Death for the grasp of that hand. 

“ Nearing home—nearing home,” sing the wheels as they fly; 
Nearing home in the light of the fading sky. 
I, swift to the home that has drawn me these years, 
And he unto his, in the sphere beyond spheres: 
To the father on earth, through the gloom gates of even; 
To the Father above, through the pearl-gates of heaven. 
Ah! which shall be first in the race for the home, 
House below—house on high—which the sooner shall come? 


It is done; thou art first. Take the crown, O, thou best 
Of all fathers! I meekly salute thee at rest. 


VII 
THE CENTENNIAL ASSEMBLY 


N the spring of 1888, the Presbytery of Kansas 
City elected me a commissioner to the Centen- 
nial General Assembly, which was to meet in 

Philadelphia. My wife and I arrived late on the 
evening before the opening of the Assembly. The 
next morning Dr. Gray came to me at the Colon- 
nade Hotel and said, “ We are going to make you 
moderator today.” 

I did not believe him to be in earnest, and re- 
garded it as an expression of friendship, with not 
much purpose behind it. So I smilingly replied, 
“No, thank you, not now.” 

Dr. Gray grew more serious and insisted that on 
the train from Chicago he and others had agreed 
on that plan. 

“Why,” I persisted, “ Dr. McCosh, of Prince- 
ton, is going to be nominated. [ cannot run against 
him. If I were disposed to it would be useless. I 
do not want an empty honor. There will be no 
chance for a western preacher.” 

He replied, “ This thing has gone further than 
you think. Dr. Herrick Johnson has agreed to 
nominate you, and I only want to know who is the 


97 


98 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


best person to approach Dr. Howard Crosby, who, 
we desire, should second the nomination.” 

The whole thing was so sudden and unexpected 
that it was difficult to accept the situation. My 
reluctance was genuine. I doubted my ability and 
felt sure that the prestige of Dr. McCosh would 
carry him to the moderator’s chair. I did not, 
however, seem to have much to do with it. 

The morning service was held in the historic 
First Church. I fear my mind was not much on 
the fine sermon, given by that eloquent preacher, 
Dr. Joseph T. Smith, the retiring moderator. The 
session for organization was held that afternoon 
in Horticultural Hall, as were the subsequent 
meetings. 

According to Dr. Gray’s program, I was put 
in nomination by Dr. Johnson. ‘The seconding 
speech was made by Dr. Crosby. One of them 
referred to the fact that my voice was power- 
ful and there would be no difficulty in hearing it 
in that vast hall. Dr. McCosh was nominated 
by Dr. John R. Paxton, who, in the course of 
his speech, made mention of the fact that his can- 
didate had other qualifications than his voice. Dr. 
Brownson, of Washington, Pennsylvania, was also 
nominated. 

When the voting began and my name was called 
(as was then the custom) I voted for Dr. McCosh. 
He was called on and inquired of his neighbors for 
whom he should vote. 


THE CENTENNIAL ASSEMBLY 99 


They said, “ Vote for Thompson, he voted for 
you.” 

He did so and we all retired to an anteroom to 
await the result. I had no expectation of being 
elected. Why should a comparatively unknown 
western preacher be made moderator? Dr. Mc- 
Cosh was not only the head of a great university, 
but was recognized on both sides of the Atlantic 
as one of the greatest of modern philosophers. | 
was sincerely ashamed of making such a race. I 
went up to the doctor and said so, and added, “ But 
it will come out all right; you will be elected, as 
you should be.” In reply he merely remarked that 
he felt “ quite fit.” 

When my long time friend, Dr. Joseph Vance, 
stepped into the room to tell me how the voting 
was going it gave me unaffected surprise. Pres- 
ently Drs. Johnson and Crosby appeared at the 
door. Of course we then knew the result. They 
and Dr. Brownson congratulated me. Dr. McCosh 
was too much surprised to get out of his chair. I 
did not in the least blame him. Who was I that I 
should be preferred above our most distinguished 
philosopher? 

In subsequent study of the result to get at its 
psychology, there appeared to be several elements 
that contributed. In the first place, as I said in my 
remarks responding to the welcome Dr. Smith and 
the Assembly gave me, I viewed it, not in any per- 
sonal light, but as a tribute to the part of the coun- 


ji 


100 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


try I represented. In addition there was some fear 
that Dr. McCosh could not be easily heard in that 
vast auditorium. Perhaps there was also some feel- 
ing that he was too great a man for the small af- 
fairs of parliamentary usage. 

That was still the time when the standing com- 
mittees were appointed by the moderator. I invited 
a dozen leading men of the Assembly, including, of 
course, Dr. Roberts, the stated clerk of the As- 
sembly, to my rooms for consultation, and we had 
a strenuous evening, lasting far into the night. 
These modern moderators hardly realize what an 
easy time they are having! 

This being the Centennial Assembly, it was one 
of the most outstanding in the history of the 
Church. Unusual preparations had been made for 
it. ‘Two very notable events signalized it. One 
was a union meeting of our Assembly with that of 
the Southern Church, then holding its sessions in 
Baltimore. It was a feast of brotherly love and so 
to be highly regarded. But now on a review of 
thirty-four years I am wondering why there have 
been so many of these love feasts with nothing 
resulting. I recall that in the following year there 
was a joyous meeting of a joint committee of 
Northern and Southern Presbyterians in the pala- 
tial home of Colonel Elliot F. Shepard, on Fifth 
Avenue, in New York, to consider the question of 
reunion. The Colonel was at that time the owner 
of “ The Mail and Express,” so when resolutions 


THE CENTENNIAL ASSEMBLY 101 


of thanks to our host were moved, Dr. Joseph R. 
Wilson, the father of Woodrow Wilson, seconded 
them with the remark, ‘“ Let us mail and express 
them.” Perhaps that has been the trouble. Our 
movements toward union have gotten no closer 
than mailing and expressing. 

The other great occasion was the presence of 
Grover Cleveland, the President of the United 
States, who spoke to the two Assemblies at a re- 
ception given by Philadelphia Presbyterians in the 
Academy of Music, after which he and Mrs. Cleve- 
land, with the two Moderators and their wives, 
went through an hour or two of hand-shaking with 
great fortitude, until some of the people began to 
come around a second time. 

Of the numerous social functions, one at the 
beautiful home of Mrs. Morris, at Overbrook, 
was noteworthy. It was there that I had a 
long conference with President Cleveland on In- 
dian affairs, which gave me a high opinion, not 
only of his ability and sound judgment, but of 
his kindly and real interest in the subject. When 
we separated he said, “I will write you my 
decision soon.” In a very little while his let- 
ter came to me in Kansas City in his own hand- 
writing, according to his habit in all important 
correspondence. 

At the close of the sessions of the Assembly, 
which throughout had been harmonious, we started 
for the West, stopping for a day in Cincinnati, 


102 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


where the Presbyterians had arranged a banquet 
and a reception. This was rendered especially 
pleasant by the fact that after an absence of nearly 
twenty years, there was still a goodly number of 
personal friends and co-labourers in various church 
and civic enterprises.” 


But the most important event (to me) connected 
with the Assembly has yet to be mentioned. I had 
been asked by Dr. Crosby to preach in his pulpit on 
Sunday morning, and by Dr. John Hall to preach 
in the Fifth Avenue Church in the afternoon. I 
had, one summer, supplied for Dr. T. DeWitt Tal- 
mage, in Brooklyn, but I have now no recollection 
that I had ever preached in New York. So I went 
with much interest. We were entertained at the 
Buckingham, and that night had dinner at Colonel 
Shepard’s. The next day I preached as arranged. 
That evening a messenger came to ask me to call 
at the home of Mr. VanNorden, only a block away. 
Quite mystified, I went and found a dozen or more 
men, the officers of the Madison Avenue Church, 
who had met to offer me a call to that pulpit, then 
vacant by the resignation of Dr. Charles S$. Robin- 
son. It took me by complete surprise. I learned 
afterward that two other churches had shared in 
the plot to have me preach in New York. One of 
them, through its committee, had prepared a call. 
Before it had been presented the Madison Avenue 
Church had taken its action. 


THE CENTENNIAL ASSEMBLY 103 


I was, of course, unable to decide at that time, 
but went back to Philadelphia and took up my du- 
ties in the Assembly. When I had a chance I took 
Dr. Crosby aside and, telling him of my call, said, 
“Now, doctor, not as a New Yorker, as my friend, 
give me your counsel.” 

Without a moment’s hesitation, he _ replied, 
“ New York is the most difficult place in the coun- 
try in which to preach the gospel. You come to 
New York.” 

I had many occasions later to recall both his 
judgment and his counsel. 


But the time of a great decision was upon me. 
When the formal call reached me in my home in 
Kansas City, I was thrown into much perplexity. 
My work there was wholly pleasant and successful. 
I thoroughly enjoyed the West. It had been my 
boyhood home, I liked its free life, its buoyant am- 
bitions, its quenchless optimism, its pure Amert- 
canism. And I was afraid of New York, it was 
too big for me. Moreover I had serious doubts of 
being able to fit into its multiform life. How 
would such decided transplanting work? I loved 
the people in Kansas City, I did not love the 
strangers who were calling me. But very slowly 
there came over me the conviction that I might be 
in danger of seeking my own way, rather than a 
higher guidance. I had neither sought nor wanted 
a call to the East. From the day when my parents 


104 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


took me, a little boy, to Wisconsin my heart had 
been in the West. I believed in its mighty possi- 
bilities. New York was little more than a name, 
and yet something not in me pointed thither. My 
people held a meeting of protest. So I wavered for 
days between my heart, and something else. ‘The 
longer I reflected the clearer that something came 
out of the shadow, and stood revealed as the face 
of Providence. So one morning I burned my 
bridges, went to the telegraph office and sent my 
acceptance. 


My father had died the year before, and I knew 
this decision would mean much to my mother. But 
her advice was “Go.” She believed in her boy a 
good deal more than he believed in himself. 

That was in June, 1888. A vacation in the 
Rocky Mountains followed. Then a packing of 
household goods, a farewell sermon, a visit to my 
mother in Wisconsin. She was not well. We re- 
mained with her a week, then, after a promise that 
she would visit us the next spring in New York, 
we said “Good-bye” and started East. We had 
only reached Waukesha when a telegram overtook 
us telling of her dangerous illness. We found her 
unconscious from a stroke of apoplexy, and in less 
than a week she passed peacefully to her rest, and 
we laid her beside my father in the cemetery at 
Waukesha. She was one of God’s saints. I owe 
more to her than can ever be told. In my infancy 


THE CENTENNIAL ASSEMBLY 105 


she dedicated me to the ministry, and her prayers 
held steadily to that one desire. She did not have 
an easy life. She had what was better, a life of 
unfaltering faith. 





Vill 
NEW YORK 


THE DEVIL’S WHITE FLEET, 


With roaring, grinding and crashing, 
The Prince of the frosted air 

Slid from their glittering ways a fleet 
Of icebergs stately and fair. 


He gave them the push of a mighty breath; 
“ Sail South,’ said he, “and wait 

At the ‘roaring forty’ line for the ships 
That are loaded with human freight, 


“And sink them there to the soundless sea, 
Hull—mast—and sail—and then 
Trail back to the line to shout with me 
Our victory over men.” 


The fair white fleet bore stately on, 
And without sound or sign, 

With batteries masked and pennants down, 
Ranged at the “ forty line.” 


And then—since hull and icy spar 
Would show through the darkest night, 
They breathed one breath and a mist swept low 
And veiled them out of sight. 


Silent and grim and deadly there, 
They wait on the vessels’ track; 

Their allies—the crouching waves around— 
Curl menacing and black. 
* * * %* Xx 


Three sailor lads from the swinging bow 
And three from the crow’s nest peer, 

While the captain stands the bridge—his hand 
On the call to the engineer. 


“Slow down—dead slow—halt—and reverse!” 
Come the orders swift and clear; 
While the great ship drifts on a drifting tide, 
In a mystery of fear. 


A volley from man’s ally—the Sun— 
And from God’s wind a breath— 

Shattered the mist! the fleet revealed 
In its battle line of death! 


Signals the captain, “ Full ahead!” 
The billows backward fly. 

The good ship takes the broad sea road,— 
“Fair kelpies of hell, good-bye!” 


VIll 
NEW YORK 


Y ministry in New York began in Septem- 
ber, 1888. A large congregation greeted 
my first sermon, which was on Paul’s 

words, “‘ So as much as lieth in me I am ready to 
preach the gospel to you that are in Rome also.” 

Our reception was very cordial, not only by the 
Madison Avenue people, but by ministers and peo- 
ple of other churches. 

It was not long, however, before I discovered 
that the church was hemmed in by serious difficul- 
ties. The building was discouragingly capacious. 
The neighborhood was decidedly overchurched, 
and the uptown movement had already begun. 
We had a large and flourishing mission on the 
East Side. That gave an outlet for the activities 
of the people, and enabled us somewhat to reach a 
class which could not be attracted to the fashion- 
ably placed building, with high pew rents, on Madi- 
son Avenue. There was a gradual growth, but no 
such advance as I had been used to in the West. I 
soon learned, also, that a New York pastor must 
do a good many different things 1f he would suc- 
ceed. Preaching and visiting were not sufficient. 


109 


110 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


The city was clamorous for all sorts of help, and 
all good men must take a hand. 

After being at work only a short time, I was 
elected a member of the Board of Church Erection. 
A few months later, as a vacancy occurred in the 
Board of Home Missions, my membership was 
transferred to that body. This chiefly because my 
long ministry in the West gave me first hand 
knowledge of missionary needs and problems. 

As I was still moderator of the General As- 
sembly many calls came to me for special services 
outside of my own parish. In the spring the As- 
sembly of 1889 met in Dr. Crosby’s church. I 
preached the opening sermon, venturing to plead 
for a church life that was more than doctrine on 
the one hand, or ecclesiastical life on the other. It 
was a satisfaction to have so conservative a scholar, 
and acute a critic as Dr. W. G. T. Shedd say, “It 
was a noble sermon.” I had the pleasure of pass- 
ing the gavel to my successor, Dr. William C. Rob- 
erts, whom nine years later I followed in the Home 


Board. 


About this time, the ecclesiastical air became 
cloudy over the liberal tendencies appearing in the 
Church. It may be proper here to say that for 
years my mind was somewhat veering away from 
the severe theology I had learned from my great 
teacher, Dr. Charles Hodge. By no means was I 
tempted to let go any of the fundamentals of the 


NEW YORK 111 


Christian faith. Rather I seemed to see them in 
better perspective, in their wider relation to the 
times, and what I conceived to be their spiritual 
import. Many years before, I had taken the side 
of David Swing in his trial before the Chicago 
Presbytery. Gradually through the years I was 
conscious of reading the doctrines in a new light. 
So when the Briggs case came to the public atten- 
tion, and soon to the church courts, while by no 
means in full sympathy with the professor’s views, 
I definitely lined up with those who were opposed 
to the heresy trial. 

When the General Assembly met in Portland, 
Oregon, in 1892, I was appointed by the Presbytery 
of New York as one of those to defend its action. 
To give an idea of my general attitude at that time, 
I here quote the concluding paragraph of my 
address: 

“Tn our present preoccupation in the great con- 
test against the world and the devil, forced upon 
us in New York, we may not have been quick 
enough to perceive the demands of ecclesiastical 
law, or the eminence of points of procedure. But 
we have tried to be true to the truth as it is in 
Jesus, and for this we demand acknowledgment. 
Perhaps we should have pursued Dr. Briggs with a 
holier alacrity. Perhaps in our love of liberty, and 
peace our orthodoxy has not been keen enough. 

But when you tell us we have been slow to 
start a heresy trial, remember it has been only be- 


112 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


cause we have given heed to the almost dying words 
of Henry Jackson van Dyke, ‘If we cannot have 
liberty and orthodoxy, we choose liberty.’ But the 
Presbyterian Church has never felt the necessity of 
such choice. Remote be the day when it shall.” 

The time was now approaching when it became 
evident that, for tle success of our work, some 
changes of church service would be required. Un- 
der the pressure of populations and of business our 
constituency was rapidly changing. Many of our 
families were moving up town or out into the sub- 
urbs. A thoughtful prevision made it evident 
that if we were to maintain our work in full 
prosperity we must adapt ourselves to the new 
conditions. 


It was about this time that movements looking 
to more democracy in church work, and more 
cooperation among churches began to appear. 
Institutional churches, as they were somewhat in- 
felicitously called, were founded in Boston, Hart- 
ford and other cities. There was a growing 
feeling in many centers that new methods for 
reaching the unchurched masses must be devised, 
if we would not see indifference amounting to prac- 
tical infidelity sweeping them away from all share 
in any form of Christianity. 

I decided to take advantage of this movement to 
repeat the experiment that had been found so suc- 
cessful so many years ago in the First Church of 


NEW YORK rg 


Cincinnati. Calling my church officers for a con- 
ference, together we considered the situation. On 
the East Side, only a few blocks from us, there was | 
a large unchurched population. West of us, in the 
fashionable part of the city there was an abundance 
of churches following the old lines of work. Our 
chance lay in opening our church doors wide, and 
by multiplied agencies, seeking to bring into them 
some of the multitude who were sheep without a 
shepherd. Free pews were an essential part of 
this program. 

I outlined a carefully prepared plan, calling for 
a large venture of faith and a good deal of money. 
While the officers hesitated to make the plunge, 
there was one man who was enthusiastic about the 
plan. Gideon Fountain offered five thousand dol- 
lars to start the work on the new lines. His en- 
thusiasm was contagious and it was unanimously 
decided to surrender pew rents, and to open our 
pew doors to all comers. 

To secure the finances, the weekly envelope sys- 
tem was adopted and was generously supported. 
Mr. Henry Southworth, one of our men who had 
leisure, undertook the supervision of it, and its suc- 
cess was largely due to his fidelity. 

Our plans included not only free pews, but daily 
activity of various kinds in a genuine desire to fill 
the needs of the passing multitudes. We secured 
several assistants, among them the Rev. George W. 
Mead, a young man of decided ability and devo- 


114 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


tion. The Rev. Robert Barbour, believing heartily 
in that form of church life, volunteered his service 
and for years was a valued helper. 

The movement toward such methods in other 
cities acted favorably on our plans. Following the 
new lines, the Free Church experiment was a 
marked success, and’ received wide commendation 
in the city and throughout the country. In a few 
years after my resignation, the church reverted to 
the pew system. Recently, however, under the 
splendid leadership of Dr. Henry Sloane Coffin, it 
has again become a free church and is now one of 
the strongest in the city. 


As I was much interested in the Free Church 
movement, a brief account of its growth may be 
given here. In March, 1894, Dr. E. B. Sanford 
came to my study to confer on new lines of church 
work. As he was leaving, I called him back and 
asked him whether he would not give his time to 
such work. He was deeply interested. The result 
was a conference in my study at which were pres- 
ent Dr. Sanford, Dr. Frank Mason North, of the 
Methodist Church, the Rev. Charles A. Dickinson, 
of Berkeley Temple in Boston, Dr. Josiah Strong, 
at that time secretary of the Evangelical Alliance, 
and a few others. 

That meeting provisionally adopted the platform 
of “ The Open and Institutional Church League.” 
In October of the same year the organization was 


NEW YORK 115 


completed at a meeting held in Berkeley Temple, in 
Boston. In the spring of 1895 another meeting 
was held in the Holland Memorial Church, of 
Philadelphia, when Dr. Sanford was elected secre- 
tary, and I became president. The name of one of 
our strong supporters should here be mentioned, 
Robert C. Ogden. He was an ardent advocate of 
the Free Church, and gave it constant support. 
We were brought into close relations later when he 
became a member of the Board of Home Missions, 
and so continued until his death. 


In my address in Philadelphia, after stating my 
conviction that the platform we had adopted was in 
harmony with the New Testament principles in its 
aim to save all men by all means, abolishing so far 
as possible the distinction between the religious and 
the secular, and sanctifying all days and all means 
to the great end of saving the world for Christ, I 
closed with these words: 

“ Organic ecclesiastical unity we may hold as a 
dream of the future, or dismiss it with the interro- 
gation, ‘Is it desirable?’ But Christian unity as a 
spiritual reality, and as a practical factor in bring- 
ing the denominations into federative relations 
through which they can work out the problems of 
Christian service in city and country, without the 
present waste of forces—who that loves the king- 
dom of our common Lord can but desire and long 
to see it consummated? It is coming, and in its 


116 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


coming I believe the Open and Institutional Church 
League, seeking to exalt the work and the mission 
of Christ in the life of the Church, is destined by 
the favor of God to act an important part.” 

Presently the new organization felt the need of 
an organ to express and advance its ideas. So we 
began the publication of “The Open Church,” a 
magazine of applied Christianity. Dr. Sanford 
was the editor. With him were associated Dr. 
North, Leighton Williams, Dr. John P. Peters and 
myself. 


Then came the idea of a national federation of 
churches, and a letter suggesting that was sent to 
leading ministers throughout the country. The re- 
sponse was hearty. The Open Church League and 
the city Federation united in a call to a conference 
in New York on December 3, 1899. William E. 
Dodge, then president of the Evangelical Alliance, 
presided. In 1901, the plans matured in the or- 
ganization of the National Federation of Churches, 
in Philadelphia. In the preceding year a committee 
was formed in New York, of which I was chair- 
man, to present, in Philadelphia, a plan for the na- 
tional organization. ‘This report was put in the 
hands of a special and widely representative com- 
mittee, of which also I was chairman. On it were 
such men as Dr. H. H. Stebbins, of Rochester; Dr. 
Frank Mason North, of New York; Dr. W. D. 
Hulbert, of Cleveland, and J. Cleveland Cady, of 


NEW YORK 117 


New York. The adoption of the final report of 
this committee completed the organization. My 
friend, Dr. Sanford, was made general secretary, 
as was proper, for he had more to do with the 
formation of the plans then consummated than any 
other man. 

Requests were sent out from the Federation to 
denominational bodies to appoint delegates to a 
national conference, and so came about the great 
Inter-Church Conference on Federation which was 


held in New York in November, 1905. 


I count it one of the honors of my life that with 
eleven others of various denominations, I had the 
privilege of signing that call. It was also my 
privilege to welcome the delegates on behalf of 
the National Federation of Churches, before 
one of the most representative Christian bodies 
that ever convened in this country. As it was ac- 
counted an important message, I give the closing 
paragraphs: 

“The world may discount our ethics, as long it 
has. It may sneer at our brotherhood, and call it 
our ‘closed shop.’ But it will bow before the 
majesty of hearts fused together in the glow of a 
common passion for a living and conquering Re- 
deemer, the inspiration of a common service for 
humanity. Christ said, ‘When My disciples are 
together the world will believe.’ His first dis- 
ciples proved it. They got together in the deepest 


118 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


places of their souls, and the world, awed and con- 
senting, believed. Now what the world needs is 
faith in God, not primarily a balm for its sorrows, 
a healing for its sores. It needs a faith which 
shall make it triumph over sorrows and pains, a 
hope which shall open the way through human 
storms, as the sun at eventide transforms the clouds 
to opening curtains. What union in prayer did for 
the first disciples it will do till the last syllable of 
recorded time. 

“ Behold a path of Federation that will answer 
Christ’s prayer! Then all the rest will come as an 
inevitable sequence. We will know then how to 
hold our denominational pride in proper subjection 
to the welfare of the Kingdom. We will know 
how to realize brotherhood in a social and mission- 
ary service whose only horizon is the rim of the 
world. Then will come a campaign of world- 
conquest at whose summit there may even be a 
complete reconstruction of all the denominational- 
ism of the present—such a blending of banners that 
only an omniscent eye can discern the original 
constituents. ? 

“You remember the story of the battle of 
Lookout Mountain? As the regiments from 
widely-sundered states pressed toward the top they 
steadily and unconsciously approached each other. 
The boys from New England, from New York, 
from Ohio and Wisconsin forced their way up the 
perilous heights under their own flags—but—all 


NEW YORK 119 


federated for the common cause—under one plan 
and one commander. Heart beat with heart though 
they could neither see each other’s colors nor hear 
each other’s drums. When the clouds of battle 
lifted at the top, it was apparent that they were 
shoulder to shoulder, and their banners fluttered in 
intermingling folds in the light of a common 
victory. 

“And do you not hear it—the tramp of gather- 
ing hosts? They do not quite discern each other. 
But a common necessity binds them—a common 
commission urges them—a common hope inspires 
them. That their steps are accordant does not mat- 
ter—or their uniforms the same, is of no account. 
They love the one Lord—cherish the one faith— 
bow to the one baptism. And the day of their 
victory is coming! They will know it when 
shoulder presses shoulder, and banner twines with 
banner. They will know it, and the world will 
know it—know it—and believe! ”’ 


Following the organization of the National Fed- 
eration, there arose in the minds of the Church 
everywhere a desire for a more authorized body of 
Christian workers through whom the cause of fed- 
eration might find more adequate expression. So 
gradually came about the Federal Council of the 
Churches of Christ in America. It was organized 
in Philadelphia, December 2-8, 1908. This Council 
has so largely passed into the history of our coun- 


120 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


try as an expression of the larger, broader thought 
of our common Christianity that I need not dwell 
upon it in detail. Only a few years old, it gives 
promise of uniting Christian forces as they have 
never been united before. I have watched its 
growth with profound interest, and am serving on 
several of its committees. 

Perhaps now while I am talking of the closer 
relations of Christians and churches with one an- 
other, is a good time to speak of the evolution of 
my religious and theological thought, for the for- 
mer has had a good deal to do with the latter. 


The mingling with many denominations has 
widened my thoughts. ‘Theological changes, how- 
ever, antedated this wider fellowship. I was 
brought up in the strictest Presbyterian doctrines. 
In Pennsylvania, my mother was a member of the 
very conservative German Reformed Church. In 
Wisconsin she, and later my father, became mem- 
bers of the Presbyterian Church. I have spoken 
of those pioneer missionaries who laid the foun- 
dations of our Church in the new state. They were 
noble men, and as was almost inevitable in those 
early days, they were all conservative men. Any 
other than conservative thought had scarce touched 
the Church in the later fifties. Then I went to 
Princeton and sat at the feet of the Hodges. I ac- 
cepted their theology, and when I left the seminary 
I preached it. I am not conscious of feeling any 


NEW YORK 121 


reaction against it for a decade or more. But, as 
gradual as the approach of daylight, there came 
across my mind the feeling that I could not fully 
preach that theology. As, however, I was never a 
doctrinal preacher it troubled me but little. I sim- 
ply put Hodge and Shedd further back on my 
shelves, and gave myself to practical sermonizing, 
where their presence was not felt. 

I cannot now recall any time when I could say, 
“‘T now no longer accept the logic of predestination, 
limited atonement, and the other doctrines bound 
into a system with steel bands of logic.”’ And yet 
gradually there arose within me a protest against 
many of the views I had once accepted without 
hesitation. The new-school theology was much to 
my liking. In Pittsburgh I had become the pastor 
of a new-school church. I also came to a more 
brotherly view of other denominations. More than 
that, I was not sure that all of Calvinism was 
sound, and all of Arminianism was unsound. More 
than that, while I held, and hold firmly to the divin- 
ity of our Lord and all that it implies, I was not 
quite so sure that all Unitarians were going to be 
damned. 

As I became intimate with many good people of 
denominations which were theologically remote 
from Presbyterianism, I conceived and attained a 
liking for likable people somewhat irrespective of 
their theology. I am reminded here (in illustra- 
tion) of the experience of my friend, Dr. Henry 


- 122 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


M. Field, who, when his paper, “ The Evangelist,” 
got into deep water, appealed for help to a wealthy 
man, who, however, was not a professing Chris- 
tian. The help was given in such unexpected 
largeness that Dr. Field was moved to throw his 
arms around his benefactor, and to say, 

“ Mr. Blank, I don’t know where you are going 
when you die, but I want to go where you go.” 

If any one should care to ask me today, “ What 
is your theology now?’ I am afraid I should be 
obliged to answer, It is not a well articulated system 
at all. If I think of it as a chain, there are missing 
links. Further, I do not know as much about the 
mysteries of divine revelation as once I knew. I 
have sometimes tried to elucidate the prophecies of 
the Old Testament, have even tried to explore the 
revelation of St. John. I do so no longer. I get 
gleams and flashes of light from all parts of the 
Bible, but there are many dark stretches. And I 
am content to wait. “I stretch lame hands of 
halt toh 

But faith abides. I am surer every day of the 
Fatherhood of God, of the sufficient and efficient 
sacrifice of Christ, of the value of Christian char- 
acter, the power of the Gospel to save men, the 
final award and the blessedness eternal of all who 
believe. For much that is beyond and between— 
I wait. 


IX 
THE SECRETARYSHIP 


SUNRISE ON THE BAY, 


The last white star has slipped its ray 
Within its tent of blue; 

The great sun sends the level day 
Along the world anew; 

So, Lord, within Thy larger will 
My trembling will would hide, 

And in Thy glory, deep and still, 
Invisible abide. 


See Sunrise lay her freshened face 
Across the ropes and spars, 

As Hope each day with fairer face 
Lighis up her prison bars. 

Creep the white sands to bending waves, 
That shake their plumes of spray; 

So, Lord, my life before Thee craves 
For baptisms day by day. 


Laughs the great ocean round the keel, 
Busy the yards and deck; 

The landlocked crafts the ttde-wave feel, 
White wings the blue fields fleck; 

So, Lord, my spirit waits for Thee, 
Oh, wave of glory, come! 

One throb of love shall set me free, 
One breath shall waft me home. 


IX 
THE SECRETARYSHIP 


URING the years of my pastorate in New 
York I was twice approached to consider 
educational work as president of western 
colleges, but I felt constrained to decline. I felt 
my work in Madison Avenue was not done, and 
that whatever gifts I had lay rather in the line of 
pulpit and pastoral work. At any rate I had no 
such experience as would justify me in thinking I 
would be a success in educational lines. 

I had written a few books, and published a vol- 
ume of verse, but that did not seem to fit me to 
be a college president. It did, however, bring me 
into the membership of the Authors’ Club, with 
its pleasant associations, and its famous Thurs- 
day night dinners, held in their rooms in Car- 
negie Hall. 


Authors as a rule are too poor to afford club 
rooms in so expensive a location, but Mr. Carnegie 
was an honored member of the club, and he not 
only gave them the rooms during his lifetime but 
has generously provided for them since his death. 

I recall an amusing incident at the club on one of 


125 


126 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


their reception days. I was introduced to someone 
as Mr. Murray, but in the crowd it did not seem 
necessary that I should correct the mistake, so after 
an exchange of courtesies, I moved away, but the 
stranger kept bringing up people, and introducing 
me as Mr. Murray, till I went in disgust to an old 
club member, and said, “ Who on earth is Murray? 
There’s a fellow here who keeps calling me Murray, 
and bringing people up all the time.” 

He looked at me, and said, ‘ Why, it’s true.” 

‘“What’s true?” I persisted. 

“Why it’s David Christie Murray, the cele- 
brated Englishman. You do look like him.” 

Just then I saw my tormentor approaching with 
more people in tow. I promptly fled, without wait- 
ing for refreshments or anything else. 

Which incident shows that it is not well to 
go under an assumed name, even at a crowded 
reception. 


After ten years of service in my church, a call 
came to me which interested me profoundly. This 
brings me to what I have ventured to think is my 
most important service in the Kingdom of God. 
As already intimated, I had been a member of the 
Board of Home Missions since 1888. During that 
time the Board had two, sometimes three, secre- 
taries. For sufficient reasons, in 1898, it decided 
on a radical change of administration, namely, in- 
stead of several secretaries, to have only one, in 


THE SECRETARYSHIP 127 


whose hands the responsibility for administration 
should be lodged. Dr. W. C. Roberts and Dr. D. 
J. McMillan therefore resigned. 

One evening as we were going out to dinner, I 
was surprised to receive a letter from John E. Par- 
sons, E'sq., chairman of the committee to select a 
secretary, inquiring whether I would consider an 
election to the vacant place. I pocketed the letter, 
and after meditating for the following day, wrote 
declining the proffered position. I carried that let- 
ter around for a few hours, however, and during 
those few hours I meditated. Was I flying in the 
face of Providence? I was a western man, was it 
for this I had come East? The longer I thought 
the more uncertain I became. We talked it over in 
the family with the result that I destroyed that 
letter and wrote another, asking for time that I 
might give it calm and full consideration. 

On many accounts I was loath to give up my 
church, and especially its new form of work. On 
the other hand, I saw in the Home Board a chance 
for national work. It was a wider sphere than I 
had dreamed of. I knew its technique, having 
served on it for ten years. I also knew the field, 
from my long residence in the West. So at last, 
after much thought and prayer, I accepted the elec- 
tion. I continued as supply for my pulpit for a 
few months, but began my Home Board duties on 
the first of March, 1898. 

I confess that from the first the proposition that 


128 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


I should undertake the reorganization of the Board 
appealed to me very strongly. I was myself the child 
of Home Missions. When I began to preach, I was 
first of all a home missionary. It was, therefore, 
natural that after more than a quarter of a century, 
I should feel the drawing toward that service. 


I began my task, not without a realization of its 
difficulties. ‘The Board had a debt of nearly two 
hundred thousand dollars. But far more serious 
than that was the fact that the Briggs trial had 
drawn lines which had not been obliterated. There 
were many Presbyterians who had not forgotten 
the fact that in that trial, | had stood for a larger 
liberty than the conservative wing of the Church 
was willing to concede. 

Two of the church papers were in doubt of me. 
One of them said, “ Never before had the election 
of any secretary for any board created such sur- 
prise or been the subject of such general condem- 
nation by pastors and private members of the 
church.” Another paper from the same city quoted 
the remark, and added that it had examined the 
leading Presbyterian journals of the country and 
had found no adverse criticism in any of them. It 
then made several quotations to sustain its conten- 
tion. Asa matter of fact some forty papers, secu- 
lar and religious, gave it large publicity, and in 
every case favorable, with but two or three unim- 
portant exceptions. 


THE SECRETARYSHIP 129 


My difficulties were manifest and manifold, but 
I went at my work with energy and some courage. 
The Board having given me a free hand, I was con- 
scious of strong backing. The membership of the 
Board consisted of able men. John S. Kennedy, 
John Crosby Brown, John FE. Parsons, and Robert 
C. Ogden were among the laymen. They and pas- 
tors of the leading churches, with Dr. John Hall 
as president, constituted a body that could be 
relied upon. 


The meeting of the General Assembly was near; 
my first endeavor, therefore, was to prepare for 
that important occasion. It was intimated that 
some of the conservatives would oppose my confir- 
mation. At the Assembly, there were evidences of 
such a plan. My first address, therefore, was 
awaited with peculiar interest. I prepared it care- 
fully. When I rose to speak a suggestive hush 
came over the great audience in the auditorium at 
Winona. Friends and foes were waiting. The 
Lord gave me unusual freedom. I was conscious 
after the first few sentences that the audience 
was with me. So I went on joyfully. When I 
closed, the response was so hearty that if there 
were any there who opposed me they decided 
that silence was the better policy. I heard no 
more of the criticism, and went home to my task, 
conscious that I had made no mistake in entering 
upon it. | 


130 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


I quote a few sentences from my address as the 
keynote to the great cause: 


“The work is definite and easily stated. Our 
country for Christ! It appeals at once to our patriot- 
ism and our religion. If ever divine Providence set 
a land apart for high uses and a noble destiny, this 
land has been so set apart. It belongs to God. Its 
origin contains its manifest destiny. Into its begin- 
nings were put the faith and struggles of those who, 
in every country, fought for freedom. The Genevese 
Republic is incarnated fully first not in Switzerland 
but in the United States. The fight for liberty begun 
in brave little Holland has been continued here. The 
Huguenots, who three centuries ago fled from France, 
found homes along our eastern coast. John Knox’s 
cry for the salvation of Scotland is repeated on behalt 
of our country by the Scotch and the Irish, who from 
the Carolinas to the Tennessee mountains are keep- 
ing their faith sternly “ with their covenant and with 
their country.” So into the iron of our blood has 
passed the inheritance of the truth which has flushed 
the centuries of the old world, and will give vigor and 
tone to the new centuries of the new world.” 


I came home from the Assembly in company 
with Dr. John Dixon, pastor of the First Church 
of Trenton. He had been chairman of the com- 
mittee of the Assembly before which came the mat- 
ters connected with the Board, and was therefore 
fully cognizant of its affairs. Some of the criti- 
cisms of the Board came before him and were very 
skilfully handled. It was, therefore, a pleasure to 


THE SECRETARYSHIP ~ 131 


have the opportunity of getting acquainted with 
him. I found him to be a gentleman of the finest 
type, pure-minded and high-minded. It was evi- 
dent from the very beginning of my labors that 
there must be at least one assistant secretary. On 
this journey home I conferred with Dr. Dixon on 
this matter, and asked him to think over his ac- 
quaintances if perchance he might light on some 
one whom he could commend to me as fitted for 
the place that was waiting. 

A few weeks later I asked him to come to my 
office, and then suggested that in my judgment, he 
was the man I was seeking. Somewhat humor- 
ously, I continued: “ Frankly, I have two objec- 
tions to you. First, I was looking for a young 
man, and you are not so very far below my own 
age. Second, you have long been at the head of 
an important organization. Unfortunately, the 
Board has decided that there should be but one 
head to the work of the Board. I fear the adjust- 
ment might not be readily made.” 

His reply was characteristic of the man. Plead- 
ing guilty to the matter of years which admitted 
no discussion, after some reflection and a few 
questions, he said, “I know exactly what is im- 
plied in this position, if you want me I am at your 
service.” : 

Expressing my intense gratification, I added: 
“There are many reasons why I am happy in your 
willingness to join me. You have a certain fitness 


132 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


which you may not have suspected. I am accused 
of being a liberal, you are known to be a moss- 
back, so between the two there may be a balance to 
keep the thing from tipping over.” 

So it was arranged that I should present his name 
to the Board, and he was unanimously elected. 
When I asked him what salary he would expect, his 
characteristic reply was, “ Anything that is less 
than yours,” 

After twenty-four years I can joyfully testify 
that there never was a more harmonious partner- 
ship. And the praise for it is chiefly due to John 
Dixon, whom I have delighted to name the “ Apos- 
tle John.” This harmony is the more remarkable 
because of the sharp differences between us. He is 
an iron-clad conservative, (though in these latter 
days, I think he has often and seriously questioned 
his company). As I am increasingly a liberal, the 
harmony is due to most unusually amiable quali- 
ties on his part. He knows how to hold doggedly 
to his convictions, while giving the other fellow the 
same privilege. So we achieved a rare friendship 
which has survived differences of temperament and 
mental attitudes, and of relations to each other, not 
always easily kept serene. Many a time I would 
have liked to fight him, but his sweetness forbade 
it. I have no doubt that his calm and judicial mind 
saved me from many mistakes to which my more 
emotional temperament rendered me liable. 

The treasurer of the Board, Harvey Church 


THE SECRETARYSHIP 133 


Olin, was also a valued officer. When Mr. Eaton, 
who had been a faithful treasurer for many years, 
was called to his reward, I suggested the name of 
my brother-in-law, Mr. Olin, who was at that time 
auditor of the Chicago Stock Yard Company. 
This was in 1897, a year before I became secre- 
tary. He accepted the position and until his final 
illness, in 1918, was accounted an ideal treasurer-— 
competent, devoted and popular alike in the Board 
and on the field. 

Miss Edith Grier Long was another strong 
helper in my work. She had been my assistant in 
the Madison Avenue Church, and when elected to 
my new position I asked her to be my personal 
secretary. She accepted my call, and for all the 
time of my secretaryship was an invaluable helper. 
She not only had charge of my correspondence, 
conducting much of it with rare tact and wisdom, 
but also kept the minutes of the office conferences, 
and so was in full knowledge of all phases of the 
work, and able to be an intelligent counsellor. 
When I resigned, she was chosen as general secre- 
tary of the Woman’s Board. 


When I assumed charge of the work and was 
confronted by the debt which for those days was 
staggeringly large, $167,839, my first concern 
was to get that debt out of the way. Dr. Dixon was 
placed in special charge of this endeavor. By many 
letters and by personal appeals nearly $100,000 was 


134 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


raised. About $80,000 remained, which we felt 
must be secured before the Assembly of 1899. 

Dr. Richard $. Holmes, of Pittsburgh, took a 
keen interest in the movement, and suggested that 
the larger cities be approached for individuals or 
churches agreeing to give one hundred dollars each. 
To set the ball rolling a meeting of representatives 
from many cities was called at the home of our 
president, Dr. D. Stuart Dodge. As the home of 
his honored father, William E. Dodge, it had been 
the center where many noble philanthropic and re- 
ligious enterprises were launched. Though the 
night was the stormiest of the winter, our gather- 
ing was large and readily caught the spirit of the 
place, and the enthusiasm of the cause. When we 
separated we felt that the work was practically 
done. And so it proved to be. Dr. Holmes threw 
himself into the task with his usual vigor, giving 
much time to it, and with his splendid cooperation 
before the Assembly convened the entire debt was 
paid. The Home Board did not have another debt 
for fifteen years. 


A little later than this, to create interest in cer- 
tain expansions of the work, we decided on a great 
public meeting in Carnegie Hall, and to make sure 
of much interest, to invite Theodore Roosevelt, at 
that time President of the United States. Dr. 
Dodge and I called on him at the White House and 
urged our invitation. He gave us his hearty “ De- 


THE SECRETARYSHIP 135 


lighted-to-see-you,” and then a prompt dismissal. 
He had no time to go to New York to make a 
speech. Still determined on governmental repre- 
sentation at our meeting, we sought the Secretary 
of State, John Hay. He drew up chairs and gave 
the impression of having plenty of time, but he, 
too, begged to be excused. 

“T am not the orator of the administration,” he 
said. ‘“‘ The President should go, and I will per- 
sonally bring the matter to his attention.” 

We went home and were followed in a few days 
by a letter from Mr. Hay telling us that his inter- 
cession on our behalf had been in vain. 

I meditated a few days, and then took the train 
for Washington to try again. A committee of our 
Assembly was in session there. I went to them and 
said I was going to the White House and wanted 
their backing. They adjourned the committee 
meeting, and soon we were again inviting the 
President. 

Again he said, “ I have no time.” 

I said, “ Mr. President, you can leave here after 
lunch and be back here to breakfast.” 

“That is not much time, but I should have to 
prepare.”’ | 

I replied that we would like to hear him for an 
hour, but that ten minutes would suffice, knowing 
very well that if we got him for ten minutes we 
would be sure of half an hour at least. At this 
point, Dr. Samuel J. Nicolls said, “ Mr. President, 


136 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


when Mr. Cleveland was President, he went to Car- 
negie Hall for such an occasion, and the result was 
he was elected for a second term.” 

That nearly broke up the meeting. Mr. Roose- 
velt was shaken with laughter, and had evidently 
weakened. 

“Well,” he said, “send me a note giving date 
and subject and I will see.’’ 

He did see, and gave a magnetic address which 
made the occasion a pronounced success. 


Xx 
EXPANSION 


SENTINEL ROCKS. 


Oh! sentinel rocks of the Yellowstone, 

Shattered and splintered and splendid still, 
Decked in the'robes. ye have caught from the sun, 
Colors the painter had ne’er looked upon, 

What are the secrets within you that thrill, 

Oh! Sentinel rocks of the Yellowstone? 


Oh! royal-robed rocks of the Yellowstone— 
Warders of ages, that come and go— 
When the glacier’s plowshare tossed you high 
In fanciful battlements far to the sky, 
What artist followed to garnish you so, 
Oh! royal-robed rocks of the Yellowstone? 


Oh! lonely rocks of the Yellowstone, 
Catching the centuries’ solar fire, 
Basking in beams of the solemn night, 
Palls ever the flash of the eagle’s flight? 
Does the roar of the cataract ever tire, 
Oh! lonely rocks of the Yellowstone? 


Oh! prophet rocks of the Yellowstone, 
With your wild prismatic light aglow, 

Ye hint the walls of eternal days 

Where onyx and jasper and gold will blaze, 
And the river of life will how— 

Oh! prophet rocks of the Yellowstone! 


Xx 
EXPANSION 


ROM this time on new phases of our work 
developed rapidly. The first was the occu- 
pation of Porto Rico by the American 

Army in 1899, and by the advance line of our 
missionary service for the beautiful island. It was 
in that same year that secretaries of four Boards 
(Baptist, Congregational, Methodist, and Presby- 
terian) met in my office to outline plans for co- 
operative advance, which, by the way, has been the 
glory of our Porto Rican work. We agreed to 
moderate denominational zeal, to go into the island 
as a band of brethren to prove to the million Roman 
Catholics the essential unity of the Protestant 
forces. We divided the island into four sections, 
each Board assuming responsibility for one of the 
sections. That given to the Presbyterians was the 
western end of the island, the city of San Juan 
being open to all. We sent a declaration of our 
principles and policy to Porto Rico. It was widely 
distributed and gave us easy access to people who 
half-consciously were longing for freedom from 
the Spanish rule and all that it implied. 

Since that first year several other denominations 
have gone to the island. But the ideals of comity 


139 


140 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


and cooperation set by those early missionaries 
have never been forgotten. Porto Rico is still the 
home of united Protestantism. 

Our work in Cuba was begun in 1901. To open 
it we called Dr. J. Milton Greene from Porto Rico, 
where he had made a good beginning, having or- 
ganized a church and*gathered a large congregation 
ina building erected by the Home Board. He soon 
established a center for his work in a favorable 
location in Havana. In February, 1902, he called 
a conference of evangelical workers which laid the 
basis for that fine cooperation which has charac- 
terized Cuba as it has Porto Rico. 


Conditions in Alaska had been changing some- 
what since the rush for its gold mines had brought 
in an ever increasing white population. New op- 
portunities were opening on every hand, so in the 
summer of 1900 in order to familiarize myself 
somewhat with that country, I made the voyage to 
Alaska. My wife accompanied me, and I was 
fortunate in finding several young missionaries to 
go with us, and to dedicate their lives to that far 
off frozen region. I have since many times sug- 
gested to people longing for a vacation at once 
stimulating and restful to take ship for Alaska. As 
to scenery, there is nothing in North America to 
compare with it. High mountains, wooded to the 
water’s edge, waterfalls tumbling down their sides, 
occasional glaciers with tiny icebergs blue as 


EXPANSION 141 


sapphire floating in the bays at their feet make the 
trip a constant delight. The boat winds its way 
through the islands in an inland passage nearly all 
the way, which makes it ideal for poor sailors (of 
whom at that time I was one). Two of our num- 
ber, the Rev. and Mrs. J. W. Kirk, were destined 
to open a new station far down the banks of the 
Yukon. We went with them from Skagway on the 
new railway up over the famous White Pass. 

On the summit the party had to separate, we to 
return, they to go on to their lonely station. Then 
for the first time, Mrs. Kirk, who had been all 
bravery and good cheer, broke down. With tears 
she turned from us and with her husband faced the 
unknown land and future. Her term of service 
was brief. She had time to make her home a center 
for the boys from the mines. They gathered 
around her piano in the log cabin and sang the 
songs that carried them back to the Sunday schools 
and homes far away. Ina few years Mr. and Mrs. 
Kirk were compelled to return to the States for a 
time, and while there she was called to the home 
above. When letters came from the camp, from the 
boys whose hearts she had touched, it was evident 
her life there had not been in vain. They told of 
what she had been to the boys. Many of them in 
heart-moving terms declared life was a better and 
sweeter thing since she had been with them. Such 
are the often unknown rewards of missionary 
service. 


142 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


We visited nearly all the stations in Southeastern 
Alaska. Our voyage to Sitka had one thrilling ex- 
perience. We went to see the great Muir Glacier, 
one of the wonders of that western world. It was 
a still, foggy day. The captain decided to take us 
nearer than usual. As the day was so quiet, he 
thought there would-be no danger. So he pushed 
the boat to within perhaps a quarter of a mile of 
the gigantic wall of ice—a mile wide and three hun- 
dred feet high. As we were enjoying the sight, 
there came a sudden volley as of musketry firing 
along the entire line. Then an awful crash and a 
large part of that glittering wall came crashing 
into the sea. It sank, and when it rose it seemed as 
if a glorious cathedral with domes and spires were 
rising out of the waves. We were appalled by the 
grandeur. But other feelings seized the captain, 
who rang for full speed and swung the boat around. 
Then we saw the danger. A towering wave fifty 
feet high was racing toward us. It was a question 
whether we could outspeed it or whether it would 
crush against us. It was carrying blocks of ice as 
big as a skiff, any one of which had momentum and 
power enough to sink our ship. Panic prevailed 
for a minute, then it became plain that the ship had 
swung around and was driving for safety with all 
speed. The captain said to me, “If one of those 
chunks of ice had struck us the Indians would be 
telling this story, not we.” 

We were sorry to learn on reaching Seattle that 


EXPANSION 143 


the company had cashiered the captain because he 
had taken us too close to danger. 


The Alaskan work was very dear to me on ac- 
count of the lonely and desolate conditions in which 
the people were living and on account of the heroic 
band of missionaries who went up there rejoicing 
in their trials, doing yeoman service for the King- 
dom. The work there has had many vicissitudes 
because of climatic conditions and changes of popu- 
lation. The Point Barrow mission, the one farthest 
north of any in America, if not in the world, has 
severely tried the brave men and women who dared 
the Arctic solitude—so shut in that only once a 
year, and not always even then, can they get any 
message from home. 

The Alaskan field will not for many years, if 
ever, produce the results which Alaskan enthusiasts 
have predicted, but the labors and examples of men 
like Sheldon Jackson and S$. Halil Young will ever 
remain a testimony to the power of the gospel to 
lift men above physical conditions, making them 
glad of the chance to endure hardships like good 
soldiers. 


When I entered upon my work, I found there 
George F. McAfee, D.D., as superintendent of 
schools conducted by the Woman’s Board, which at 
that time, (and indeed till 1915) was a department 
of the Board of Home Missions. He was a man 


144 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


of rare spirit and admirably fitted for his office. 
Ill health caused him to resign in 1905, when he was 
succeeded by the Rev. Robert M. Craig. To the 
end of his life Dr. McAfee was an example to us 
all in his gentleness, patience, charity and devotion. 
In one of the magazines I indited the following 
poem to his memory: 


A man—Nathaniel-like—sincere, 
With conscience tender, pure and true, 
Whose thoughts like homing-pigeons flew 
To find elsewhere their native sphere. 


A friend—who knew not how to swerve 
From him he once had called his friend, 
Unchanging—firm—he sought no end 

Beyond the chance to love and serve. 


A saint—content in lowly ways 
To find the steps the Master trod, 
To walk like Enoch with his God: 
His duty done—all needed praise— 


Man, friend, and saint—our only requiem bell 
This lingering note—we loved and love thee well. 


In 1902, after a good deal of searching, I found 
an ideal assistant in the person of John Willis Baer, 
at that time general secretary of the Young Peo- 
ple’s Society of Christian Endeavor. He remained 
with us for four fruitful years, when he yielded to 
the blandishments of Occidental College, in Cali- 
fornia. He soon became so popular on the western 


EXPANSION 145 


coast that one of the California ministers said to 
me: “ Baer can have anything he wants on this 
coast. He can go to Congress if he wants to.” 

In a few years something better came to him. 
He was made moderator of the Presbyterian Gen- 
eral Assembly ! 

After Dr. Baer’s resignation, Joseph Ernest 
McAfee, of Park College, succeeded to his office, 
and gave to the Board years of valuable and con- 
structive service. 

In 1905 Thomas C. Moffett, D.D., was ap- 
pointed by the Board as Indian Representative, and 
in 1907 an Indian Department was created with 
Dr. Moffett in charge. His varied and constructive 
efforts have been effective in handling the interests 
of our Board and the constituent Boards of the 
Home Mission Council, with which also he has 
been associated. 

In 1912 the Mexican work was put into the 
charge of Robert McLean, D.D., and continues as 
a department of the Board under the care of 
his son. 


In 1907 the Board erected a new department 
called a Field Secretaryship, and elected to that of- 
fice the Rev. Baxter P. Fullerton, of St. Louis. He 
had been a close friend of mine from the Kansas 
City days, when he was one of the Kansas City 
pastors. He maintained his office in St. Louis and 
had general supervision of the field work through- 


146 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


out the West. But the work still grew, so that in 
1908 the Board deemed it wise to extend field su- 
' pervision by the appointment of three additional 
superintendents. Dr. Fullerton was given charge 
of the Southwest; the Rev. Robert N. Adams, 
D.D., of Minnesota, was given the Northwest; the 
Rey. Robert M. Donaldson, D.D., the Rocky 
Mountain District, and the Rev. William S. Holt, 
D.D., of Portland, the Pacific Coast. Thus was 
my office kept in close touch with the whole field. 
Dr. Adams, pressed by years, resigned in 1910, and 
the Rev. William H. Kearns, D.D., was elected in 
his place. Dr. Adams only of that faithful band 
has been called home. He was in every way a large 
man, a general in the Civil War and an efficient ad- 
ministrator in various fields of missionary service. 


XI 
GROWTH OF DEPARTMENTS 


TO THE ABSENT. 


Some—in the orange gardens 
Where the rosy mountains gleam, 

And the sunset clouds are floating 
Like visions in a dream. 


And some—in the upper gardens 
Where the starry lilies bloom, 
Where the light of God suffusing 

Has blotted out the tomb. 


And across the sweep of deserts 

And down through the heavens gray, 
The loved we love and treasure 

Are thinking of us today. 


So some in the dear Christ’s presence, 
And some on the various way— 

It 1s heart to heart o’er the distance, 
And the absent are with us today. 


XI 
GROWTH OF DEPARTMENTS 


HAVE, now reached a point in my story where 

it is proper to give some account of what I 

regard as the most significant part of my ad- 
ministration. The trend of events is best set forth 
in a previous book,* and I therefore quote: 

“Since the beginning of the century home mis- 
sions have tended strongly toward specialization, 
following in this the general trend of accepted sci- 
entific thought. In past generations the evangeliza- 
tion of the country has been an aim expressed 
chiefly in terms of the occupation of territory. It 
has been an endeavor to catch up with the moving 
western frontier. Now that the geographical fron- 
tier has been drowned in the Pacific Ocean the 
missionary thought has turned toward congestions 
of populations far this side of the frontier. 

“The wave of missionary interest has swung 
back over fields that had been occupied but not con- 
quered, new fields emerging with startling rapidity 
out of changed conditions. 

“ New Conditions. The old form of home mis- 
sions, in which the salvation of individuals and the 


*“ The Soul of America.” 
149 


150 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


organization of new churches bulked preeminent, 
still obtains, for still there are new and unchurched 
communities. A survey of western conditions con- 
ducted in 1910 by the Home Missions Council 
made this startlingly evident. In the very near 
future frontier life will come to new demands on 
church forces for two reasons. 

“First, the return of millions of soldiers for 
whom new opportunities of industrial life will be 
demanded. The Government is already making 
plans for more intensive rural life which will 
throw back the frontier into central regions of the 
country. Plans for irrigation far beyond anything 
we have known will yield rich returns for new set- 
tlers, and forests and mines will disclose their 
bounties to a hardy population. The home mis- 
sions of a generation ago is coming to the front 
again. 

“‘ Second, clear missionary insight shows us new 
phases of the Christian adventure in both city and 
country. Specific fields call for specific treatment. 
To neglect them were to imperil much of the mis- 
sionary work of the past century. They have risen 
out of the new movements of populations and the 
new conditions around them. Problems have 
emerged, considered in this and following chapters, 
for the solution of which early forms of the home 
mission service may be inadequate. 

“ Specialists. And a new form of leadership is 
demanded. “The general practitioner” still is 


GROWTH OF DEPARTMENTS 151 


needed in missions as in medicine. But besides, the 
country calls for men trained and fitted by natural 
endowments for special and perhaps untried service. 
For example, the evangelist who can gather a 
church on the prairies may not be fitted to solve the 
immigration problem or the country life problem in 
its modern relations, or the city problem in its com- 
plicated reactions. The schools of the prophets 
now must train men to the specialties of missionary 
service. Of course, the specialist must have many 
of the qualifications of the general practitioner. 
Certain elements are common to all missionary 
work. A personal message and personal service 
are fundamental and common. 

“ But conditions may so vary as to constitute a 
demand for a practically new enterprise. Under 
certain circumstances the enterprise becomes a 
problem. Dry farming in the West differed from 
surface farming chiefly in going deeper down. In- 
tensive farming differs from extensive farming in 
recognizing certain scientific factors not so readily 
discerned. The home missions which shall be ade- 
quate to meet the needs of a complex national life 
must go deeper than the surface and must match 
new and dangerous, or inviting, conditions by 
newer and more scientific Christian expedients. 
Hence, new departments have been added to the 
equipment of mission Boards to enable them to do 
this work—more difficult, but yielding abundant 
fruit.” 


152 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


The Board of Home Missions in 1903 recog- 
nized the new occasions which teach the new duties 
and began to organize departments for lines of 
work which had not up to that time challenged 
serious attention. 

Its attention was first directed toward the work- 
ing classes of congested centers, and a “ Working 
Men’s Department” was organized. A few years 
later the name was changed to “ The Department 
of Church and Labor.” 

We called to this work, from his church in St. 
Louis, Rev. Charles Stelzle, a product of the New 
York’s East Side, a young man of special gifts and 
training. His headquarters were first in Chicago, 
as being nearer the center of his field, over which 
he travelled extensively, but the rapid growth of 
the work made it necessary that he should move to 
New York to be in closer touch with the Board. 

Out of this department came gradually the other 
branches of social service work. Surveys became 
necessary, and Mr. G. B. St. John was given charge 
of that work. 

Some years later, when Mr. John S. Kennedy’s 
notable gift of millions to the Home Board and to 
the Church Extension Committee of the Presby- 
tery, opened the way for advance movements, one 
of the first of these was the founding of the Labor 
Temple at Fourteenth Street and Second Avenue, 
and Charles Stelzle was put in charge of it; by 
sympathies, training and experience he was spe- 


GROWTH OF DEPARTMENTS 153 


cially fitted for that work. It is not important here 
to go into details of that enterprise. It challenged 
much attention, called forth much criticism from 
those who had no vision, but it proved a success in 
gathering a polyglot population to hear the gospel. 
An international church was soon organized, and it 
is still meeting the religious claims of that part of 
the city, and is a demonstration widely observed of 
the need and power of new methods adapted to 
new conditions. 

By 1911 so much progress had been made that 
the subject came before the General Assembly, 
which adopted the report of a special committee, 
and instructed the Board to establish a “ Bureau of 
Social Service,” in which the Department of 
Church and Labor was merged. The principles 
then announced are much the same as those 
adopted by the Federal Council and later by church 
assemblies of many communions in America. 

The specialized study of country church condi- 
tions and of conditions of work among foreigners 
were transferred at that time respectively to the 
direction of Warren H. Wilson, D.D., and of Wil- 
liam Payne Shriver, D.D., who are continuing to 
have charge of these vital phases of home mission 
service. Specialized city work, having increasingly 
to do with congested immigrant populations, has 
also been placed in Dr. Shriver’s care under the 
heading the “ Department of City Work.’ Many 
cities have called upon this department for help in 


154 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


forming new plans of work. A notable illustra- 
tion was in San Francisco. After the fire which 
devastated that city there was a great shifting of 
population. Multitudes crossed the Bay to the east 
side. After a thorough survey, all the Presby- 
terian forces around the Bay were united in a co- 
operative plan for city evangelization. It was an 
instant and continuous success. 

The immigration of foreigners from an increas- 
ing number of countries called for attention. It 
was home mission work of the most urgent char- 
acter. Under Dr. Shriver’s direction, in addition 
to the regular work for foreigners, a new line of 
approach to these many millions was devised. ‘The 
Board inaugurated several Immigration Fellow- 
ships, by which theological students on graduation 
were enabled to go to some source of immigration 
in Europe, study the language, and the national 
characteristics, returning in a couple of years thor- 
oughly equipped to reach the people from those 
nations when they came to our shores. This has 
been a marked success and has advanced our work 
among foreigners very rapidly. Churches were 
formed in many parts of the country, and evan- 
gelical agencies established widely by which the 
best ideals of American Christian life were inter- 
preted to the people. 

Our Board also led the way in cooperative 
service to foreigners. Its arm of service in this 
was and is the Home Missions Council. This 


GROWTH OF DEPARTMENTS 155 


agency, in 1917, made several surveys of racial 
groups and distributed much valuable literature 
among the immigrants. 

A little earlier, through the same agency, a mis- 
sionary work was undertaken through the ports of 
entry. They were visited from Boston to Galves- 
ton, their moral and religious conditions examined, 
and ways devised for giving the newcomers some 
idea of the Christian character of the country, even 
before landing. 

The other great branch of the Bureau of Social 
Service, the Country Church Department, was 
made necessary by revelations that began to appear 
concerning the religious decline of country re- 
gions. Young people were leaving the country, 
teachers of country schools were often inefficient 
and very migratory, and many ministers despaired 
of the country church. Under this pressure the 
Home Board instituted the movement for moral 
and religious reconstruction of country life. 

The Government also saw the need and the op- 
portunity. In 1909 President Roosevelt had 
founded the “‘ Country Life Commission.”” Other 
agencies supported by the Government followed, 
so that a decade showed better farms, better homes 
and generally better living conditions in the 
country. 

The work of Dr. Wilson for the Home Board in 
this respect found swift response in the country 
regions. Demands from rural Presbyteries and in- 


156 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


vitations from country churches flowed in on the 
Board. 

By investigation we were soon able to show to 
the Church the desperate country-church problem, 
and then by administration in many presbyteries 
we were able to show swift and splendid results. 
There is no occasion here to go into details. They 
have been published elsewhere. But two general 
results are to be noted: 

First, our example was promptly followed by 
other denominations. The Methodist Church 
created a department similar to our own. The 
Northern Baptist Convention took the same course; 
so also the Disciples, the Moravians and others. 
Indeed I know of few communions that are not 
giving special attention to the rural work. 

Second, the Home Missions Council and the 
Federal Council have established Rural Fields 
Commissions. 

As a result of the activities named a spirit of 
federation has taken hold of the country churches. 
One of its earliest phases was in Maine, where the 
rural population is decreasing. Under the guid- 
ance of President W. DeWitt Hyde and Dr. Al- 
fred Williams Anthony, later the secretary of 
the Home Missions Council, great progress was 
achieved. Other New England states caught the 
spirit. Then it moved westward. ‘The Federal 
Council, under its Commission of Federation, cov- 
ered the country, and now there are permanent 


GROWTH OF DEPARTMENTS 157 


Federations in many states whose aim is to bring 
the churches into a practical unity. 

It is not too much to say that the great results 
in the work of the moral and religious reconstruc- 
tion of the country are in large measure due to the 
leadership of our Board of Home Missions. I 
quote again :* 


“The work of the Board’s Bureau of Social 
Service is chiefly educational—assisting ministers and 
laymen to meet the problems arising in their own 
parishes. While the Presbyterian Church has the 
distinction of being the first denomination in this 
country to establish and carry on such a department 
other denominations in the United States, Canada and 
Europe have now inaugurated similar movements. 
These bodies have not been slow to acknowledge their 
indebtedness to the leadership of our Church. The 
Boston Herald some years ago remarked editorially: 

““ When the Presbyterian Church in this country a 
few years ago established its Department of Church 
and Labor in connection with the Home Missionary 
Society, it established a precedent among American 
Protestant Churches and did the most statesmanlike 
thing to be chronicled in the history of American 
Protestantism during the past decade. The results 
have justified the innovation.’ 

“The essential features of the Bureau of Social 
Service are still maintained. Its educational propa- 
ganda has been taken up by presbyteries and churches 
and the social interpretation and application of the 
gospel are being steadily advanced. In many centers 


* “The Soul of America.” 


158 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


the community life, inspired by the community 
church, is proving the gospel’s power to bind people 
into the close and helpful bonds of the Kingdom of 
God.” 


The Board, in heeding the calls above described, 
did not forget the call of its original charter. It 
has continued to follow the steps of the pioneer. 
The Home Mission opportunities have increased 
not only with the increase of acreage of land, but 
with the development of new capacities for sus- 
taining populations. Agriculture is more intensive. 
The treasures under the soil have given employ- 
ment to millions. So Home Missions must still go 
west. But a refluent wave also calls it back east, 
to the great capitals where life is intense, fierce, 
perilous, more difficult to control than in the soli- 
tude of the desert. The departments which one by 
one had come into being, were organized to answer 
those calls. Of course country work had been older 
than the Board, but the different rural populations 
and conditions of today called for special treatment. 
Also, work among foreigners had been as old as 
the incoming of the first European migrations. 
But radical immigration changes demanded new 
forms of Christian activity. The American city— 
its marvellous growth, and far above all, its cosmo- 
politan character—cosmopolitan in a sense and to 
an extent which to thoughtful people spelled a na- 
tional peril—challenged attention. So we began 
City Work. 


GROWTH OF DEPARTMENTS 159 


The creation of these new departments in which 
educational, social and reformatory work was done, 
as well as that which is strictly evangelical, awak- 
ened a good deal of criticism among men of limited 
vision, who had not yet learned what the Church 
should do under the new conditions to christianize 
our nation. Thus our Country Life Department 
was attacked because it advocated better farming 
as an adjunct to better living. Our City Work was 
criticized because it took social and housing con- 
ditions into the account in taking the gospel to 
crowded populations. Even our Immigration 
Work was spoken against because we took note of 
various bad conditions, and asked the Government 
to provide remedies. That was interfering with 
secular and political matters which must not be 
tolerated. For a,number of years we were feeling 
our way toward this new yet old interpretation of 
the gospel. But the work of these new depart- 
ments went on, other communions following our 
leadership, helping thus to bring in the new day of 
the larger conception of the home mission task. 

In our first steps along these new lines it soon 
became apparent that we must correct some impres- 
sions that stood in the way. ‘There was even some 
opposition based on the assumption that somehow 
these lines of work antagonized personal salvation. 
We endeavored to make it plain that what we 
sought was quite in harmony with the most con- 
servative views of the gospel, that we were not 


160 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


bringing in an innovation but only stating in mod- 
ern terms what dated back to the days of the Apos- 
tles. Social service was only the moral and 
religious care of the community. It finds its be- 
ginning in the Acts of the Apostles. The infant 
church in Jerusalem did not have a branch of 
social service. Itself’ was an institution of such 
service. In later times when the chief emphasis 
was placed on personal salvation, social service 
almost went out of the recognition of the Church. 

Another cause for disturbance in the conserva- 
tive wing of the Presbyterian Church was my atti- 
tude toward other communions. I had long been 
an advocate of closer relations with the entire body 
of Christ. I had worked for a Federation of 
Churches long before I became secretary. A closer 
acquaintance with home mission problems _per- 
suaded me that radical changes must be made in 
the missionary field. Cooperation must take the 
place of rivalry. We had remained too long in de- 
nominational valleys. The denominations must 
yield to the larger view of what is best for the 
Kingdom of God. These ideas I advocated 
through the Home Missions Council, and through 
the plans of the Home Board. 

When they came to be worked out on the field 
much opposition was manifested. Where would 
Presbyterianism come out if we must always be 
thinking in the large terms of the Kingdom? Ef- 
forts to unite small churches and to eliminate 


GROWTH OF DEPARTMENTS 161 


competition met with a good deal of resistance, es- 
pecially in certain sections of the great West. The 
Board, however, steadfastly adhered to its policy 
and cooperated fully with the Home Missions 
Council to bring about a better day. And the day 
came. Comity prevailed and far more than comity. 
The denominations were not only trying to keep 
out of each other’s way. They were getting close 
together and joining hands in a common crusade. 





XII 
THE HOME MISSIONS COUNCIL 


THE HARP OF THE AGES. 


America’s genius—faith-lifted, far-eyed— 
Over mountains and deserts, prophetic she cried: 


I will build me a harp for the world’s last song 

To sound forth the triumph o’er passion and wrong; 
To summon the nations to ultimate peace, 

To give a world’s sorrow its final surcease, 

Over far-away seas I will summon its wires 

That are tempered to fineness by liberty’s fires. 


One drawn from the hills of Italian vines, 
And one from the crags of the Apennines; 

A quivering thread from the Slavic lands, 
And one from the North sea’s wintry strands; 
A heavy string from the heights of the Rhine, 
And one where the flowers of France entwine. 


From the Grampians far to the hills of Nippon 

I will gather the wires—one by one. 

From Appalachian heights I will string them far 
To the mountains pricked by the evening star. 
And then I will wait—with the patience of God— 
Till the ages their glittering pathways have trod. 


Then—then as the winds of the centuries play 
Through the dawning sheen of earth's ultimate day— 
At last shall our national anthem arise 

With the notes that broke down the Bethlehem skies— 
A world’s peace and glory and Heaven’s “ Amen” 

By the blending of chords from the lands of All Men. 


XII 
THE HOME MISSIONS COUNCIL 


HAVE alluded to the work of the Home Mis- 

sions Council. It has become so large a factor 

in church life that it is proper here to give a 
somewhat fuller account of it. It was organized 
in 1908 by a few who believed the time had come 
to give organic expression to the desire for closer 
cooperation among the evangelical denominations. 
A briet Constitution was adopted which has re- 
mained practically unchanged. Its aim was de- 
clared to be “to promote fellowship, conference 
and cooperation among Christian organizations 
doing missionary work in the United States and 
their dependencies.” Later the scope of the work 
was made to include Canada. 

I was elected the first president of the Council 
and have been re-elected at each annual meeting 
since. The affairs of the Council have been in the 
hands of an executive committee, which has held 
frequent meetings. At first the services were 
purely voluntary. As the duties increased it be- 
came necessary to have permanent office quarters 


165 


166 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


and paid executives. The funds came chiefly by 
an accepted apportionment from the cooperating 
societies, numbering now about forty and repre- 
senting twenty-seven denominations. 

Its budget has increased as its usefulness has in- 
creased, under the able Secretaryship of Dr. Alfred 
Williams Anthony, who was its Secretary for five 
years and has only just resigned to take up another 
form of work. He found a valuable helper in the 
Rev. R. W. Roundy, who has recently listened to 
the call of a New England church. 

The new Secretary, the Rev. C. E. Vermilya, 
has just entered upon his work. 

Associated with the Council is the Council of 
Women for Home Missions, also having an execu- 
tive staff and occupying adjoining quarters. The 
work of these two has grown steadily till now it is 
recognized as an aid to the home mission enterprise 
which is effective and indispensable. It has been 
the means of putting into operation Home Missions 
Councils in a number of western states, in stimu- 
lating cooperation throughout the country, in mini- 
mizing the overlapping of missionary agencies and 
in putting to work a statesmanlike program by 
which the many organizations shall increasingly 
function as one great missionary army for the 
conquest of our country. It has brought into its 
fellowship the strongest leaders of all the evangel- 
ical bodies. The Federal Council regards it as its 
agent in the entire field of home missions. 


THE HOME MISSIONS COUNCIL 167 


During these years that I have given much time 
to its affairs I have been amply rewarded in its 
expansion and fruitfulness. Among the men most 
closely associated with me in these formative years 
I may mention such dear friends as Dr. Hubert C. 
Herring, of the Congregational Church; Dr. Frank 
Mason North, of the Methodist Church; Dr. E. B. 
Sanford, who helped to organize the Federal Coun- 
cil; Dr. H. C. Morehouse, a veteran in Baptist mis- 
sions, and his successor, Dr. Charles L. White; 
Bishop Lloyd, of the Episcopal Church, and that 
choice spirit of the Reformed Church, Rev. John 
Brownlee Voorhees, who was our first Secretary 
and who gave his life for humanity in the World 
War. I must not forget Dr. Josiah Strong, that 
great leader in federative work, one of the first to 
see its importance and to give it his strong aid. 
He passed away after a long illness in the maturity 
of his powers and left a rich legacy not only in the 
books which gave a new vision to home missions, 
but also in his personal leadership which this gen- 
eration at least will hold in grateful memory. At 
the time of this writing the Home Missions Coun- 
cil may be said to have become firmly established 
as one of the great agencies in bringing into Ameri- 
can history a new day in cooperative Christianity. 

From the organization of the Council, in 1908, 
to 1914, my home mission energies were given out- 
let through both the Home Board and the Council. 
At the latter date the time came when it seemed 


168 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


best (I was seventy-five years old) that so far as 
the Presbyterian Board was concerned I should 
give my place to a younger man and should give 
what strength remained for coming years to the in- 
terdenominational work represented by the Home 
Missions Council. 

My work for the Home Board had covered six- 
teen years of a very formative character. As I 
have already noted, they were the years when home 
missions took in a wider and a deeper range. It 
considered the denomination less and the common 
interests of the Kingdom more. It regarded not 
only, nor mainly, the geographic extension of the 
missionary work, its latitude and longitude, but 
more its depth in getting a grasp on those problems 
of social and moral and educational conditions 
which were rising to eminence all over the country 
and threatening, unless checked, the very founda- 
tions of American society. Questions of race 
brought out by class relations rising through our 
industrial system, of moral decline and intellectual 
decay manifest in increasing illiteracy and in moral 
degeneracy in many sections of the country, the 
effect on the popular life of unsettled economic con- 
ditions because of which a perilous unrest was 
manifesting itself, breaking out often into violence 
and even into savagery,—these and kindred ques- 
tions demanded a reshaping of missionary plans, a 
broader and more philosophic attitude toward the 
entire range of moral and religious endeavors. 


THE HOME MISSIONS COUNCIL 169 


As I have intimated, these new visions and plans 
could not be taken up without opposition from con- 
servatives tied down to stereotyped ways and meth- 
ods. These criticisms, together with my announce- 
ment to resign in March, 1914, raised somewhat of 
a tempest in certain quarters, but the General As- 
sembly stood firmly by the policies which had been 
adopted by the Board and at its session in Chicago, 
in that year, adopted the following generous 
resolution : 


EXTRACTS FROM THE MINUTEs OF THE GENERAL 
ASSEMBLY OF THE PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH 
IN THE U.S. A., May 27, 1914. 


“The General Assembly desires to place upon 
record its profound and hearty appreciation of the 
long, faithful and successful services of the Rev. 
Charles L. Thompson, D.D., who has filled the office 
of General Secretary for sixteen years. His prophetic 
vision and utterance, his inspiring leadership, his in- 
domitable courage, his large-minded statesmanship, 
have combined to make his services to the Church 
such as can never be forgotten. The religious life of 
America will be forever different because of what he 
has seen and hoped and worked out. Nor is it only 
in our own branch of the Church that his service has 
had meaning and value. For under his leadership, 
the work has been such that other divisions of the 
Church have looked to the Board of Home Missions 
of the Presbyterian Church for their guidance and 
inspiration. We thank God, that if he must lay down 
his task, it can be with the glad consciousness that 


170 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


he has served the Church of God as it is given to few 
men to serve her.” 


During those sixteen years I traveled exten- 
sively and wrote largely in the interest of the work. 
My journeys took me into every state in the Union 
save one or two. I was present at every meeting of 
the General Assembly save one, when I was ill. [ 
spoke at every meeting, my addresses were pub- 
lished and may be found among my papers. They 
were received with a generous appreciation. 

Of my various journeys, a few to our more re- 
mote possessions may be worth a passing men- 
tion. I have already referred to my trip to Alaska 
in 1900. 

I made a number of trips to our various Indian 
reservations, the most interesting of which was a 
journey to the Pima Mission, made illustrious. by 
the heroic and fruitful service of the Rev. Charles 
H. Cook. This mission has had an eventful work 
for more than fifty years. 

I recall with keen pleasure a visit we made there 
nearly twenty years ago. Leaving the railroad at 
Casa Grande we drove behind a team of fairly gen- 
tle horses for sixteen miles over the desert, with 
its sage brush and its rattlesnakes, till midnight 
brought us to the missionary’s home. The light in 
the window as we approached told us that the vet- 
eran missionary awaited our coming. It was a 
lonely home. His wife, who had been his strong 


THE HOME MISSIONS COUNCIL 171 


and devoted helper, had gone to her rest. His 
children were among friends in the East. He was 
standing guard alone. Yet in his solitude his work 
was his companion. No man ever gave himself 
more devotedly to his mission than Cook gave 
himself to his Pima children. 

A preaching service had been arranged for the 
day following our arrival. It was in the middle of 
the week. On our query whether the Indians would 
come to a service at high noon of a week day Cook 
quietly remarked, “ You will see.’ And we did 
see. An hour before the appointed time the audi- 
ence began to assemble. They came in many cases 
from long distances; some of them on a journey of 
ten or fifteen miles over the.desert. They came on 
ponies, in carts, on foot, parents and papooses, till 
before the hour for service, the church holding 
four hundred was full from the pulpit to the door. 
I am accustomed to all kinds of audiences, but 
never before nor since have I found one more in- 
tent on the message and its claims. And this from 
a people who a dozen years before had been sunk 
in a dreary and hopeless paganism. And all this 
the reward of one humble and unknown mission- 
ary. Here was indeed the power of the gospel. 
One could not help drawing a contrast between this 
simple reality and the show of religion in stately 
cathedrals among people with whom the “ sim- 
plicity that is in Christ’ is often obscured by the 
vain show of many inventions. 


172 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


After the service the Indians gathered around 
us to shake hands, and it was some hours later 
before the last of them went off to their desert 
homes. 

I made several visits to our islands in the Carib- 
bean. The first visit was to Porto Rico the year 
after the opening of-our work there. That visit 
was full of interest and inspiration. My wife was 
with me, and under Dr. Greene’s kind guidance we 
had a fairly complete view of the island. I should 
mention that when Drs. Greene and Caldwell, our 
first missionaries, went to the island they took with 
them two important documents. The first was the 
agreement entered into between four mission 
Boards as they were about to begin work in Porto 
Rico, that we would divide responsibility for differ- 
ent sections of the island (the Presbyterians taking 
the western section), that we avoid all competition 
and would so work together as to demonstrate to 
those who had been crushed by a false church unity 
that there is one that is living and life giving. 

The second document was a proclamation to the 
people of Porto Rico, giving the spirit in which we 
entered on the work and seeking their cooperation. 

It was my privilege to preach the first Thanks- 
giving sermon that ever had been given there. It 
was in Mayaguez, a beautiful city on the western 
coast. The audience was more than the hall could 
hold. Many hung around the doors and the long 
French windows. Indeed everywhere we went the 


THE HOME MISSIONS COUNCIL 173 


size of the audience was determined by the size of 
the building. Part of this, of course, was curios- 
ity. But a part of it one could see was the longing 
for something other than the Catholic Church had 
given them. The growth of mission work on the 
island steadily demonstrated this. 

A few years after this first visit, we went there 
again. The mission stations that had been opened 
in many places, the schools that had attracted nu- 
merous and earnest students, the personal testi- 
monials that came to us on every hand, told elo- 
quently of the appreciation of a gospel that 
revealed the “simplicity that is in Christ.” The 
work of all the denominations now engaged in 
Porto Rico is a marvel of cooperation, looking for- 
ward to ever closer union. The spirit in which it 
was begun has been steadily maintained. 

In 1910 a somewhat different form of work was 
undertaken by the Rev. John William Harris, who 
opened an industrial school at San German, a beau- 
tifully situated town twelve miles from Mayaguez. 
Two years later the name was changed to the Poly- 
technic Institute, and as such it has had a remark- 
able growth. That it has commended itself to the 
people of Porto Rico is evidenced by the fact that 
there are yearly hundreds more applicants than it 
is able to receive. 

Its great value lies in the fact that in Porto Rico, 
as in all Latin countries, work is generally consid- 
ered as below the dignity of an educated individ- 


1174 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


ual. To teach its students to feel the dignity of 
work and how work can be efficiently and econom- 
ically performed, both by men and women, is there- 
fore the no mean purpose of this Institute. 

I have a peculiar interest in this work, for it 1s 
there that a building is to be erected which shall 
bear my name, the Board having with great con- 
sideration so decreed. 

' Twice I have visited Cuba. The first visit was 
in 1902, soon after the inception of our work on 
the Island, and there, as in Porto Rico earlier, Dr. 
Green was my guide. We traveled the length of 
the island (and it seemed long enough in those un- 
comfortable trains), and made tentative plans for 
the church and school work, which has since devel- 
oped beyond our early hopes. 

A second visit occurred as we were returning 
home after the Panama conference, of which I 
shall speak more fully later. A number of us 
stopped off at Havana for a three days’ regional 
conference. 

My time was taken up by this meeting and I did 
not, therefore, go to many of our stations outside 
of the city, though I met many of our missionaries 
at the conference. 

A rather amusing incident occurred at the Sun- 
day night service at the Methodist church. Dr. 
King, of Oberlin, was announced to preach. As 
we went in, we found the minister anxiously look- 
ing up and down the street. Dr. King, he ex- 


THE HOME MISSIONS COUNCIL = 175 


plained, had not come, nor did he even know that 
he was in Havana. 

“He is here,” we said. ‘‘He came up from 
Panama in the boat with us. He probably has lost 
his way. Don’t wait for him, begin your service 
and he will turn up.” 

After a few more agitated minutes of waiting, 
the worried preacher strode up the aisle to the pul- 
pit, took up a hymn book, and said, “‘ We will com- 
mence our service by singing the six hundred and 
seventieth hymn, ‘Come, Thou Almighty King.’ ” 

Needless to say, Dr. King did come, and was 
much amused later to learn what hymn the min- 
ister had chosen. 

The days in Havana, which is a beautiful city, 
were made all the more beautiful by the kind atten- 
tions of our friends, Mr. and Mrs. Snare, of New 
York. They spent much time in Havana because 
of his business interests there. Their car, and we 
might say themselves, were at our call, so that we 
saw much of the city and its surroundings. They 
not only entertained us royally, but followed us on 
our departure by a telegram to our hotel at Key 
West instructing it to refuse to give us any bill. 

Indeed that good fortune followed us through 
the South, where I was meeting various missionary 
engagements. At Miami, Palm Beach, Eustis, St. 
Augustine and Charleston we met with the same 
kind attentions. So that we came home quite full 
of southern hospitality. 





XIII 
OVERSEAS 


SESE AMS Mil Sy 


Man claims the land, but his domain 
Stops at the shore. 

God’s wandering acres of the main 
Roll on before. 


I look this vast expanse abroad, 
My rest ts this: 

This is the blue-veined palm of God, 
“The sea is His.’ 


Far from the world men walk upon, 
Why should I fear? 

Across this Galilee the Son 
Of God draws near. 


I lie within His hand. Above 
Benignant bends 

The blue eye of His boundless love, 
And that defends. 


XIII 
OVERSEAS 


NUMBER of times I have crossed the seas. 
A brief account of some of these trips is 
here given. 

As stated in a previous chapter, my first Furo- 
pean trip in 1885 was with my son Robert, whose 
health had become impaired by his studies in col- 
lege and seminary. He had been licensed to 
preach, and had spent a summer preaching to a 
congregation in Minnesota, when it became evi- 
dent that his nervous condition was threatening 
his health. It was hoped that a complete change 
might restore him. He had a brilliant career ahead 
of him. His classmates considered him their out- 
standing man. But the foreign trip did not do 
for him what we had hoped. After a few years 
of struggle with his failing health, he and I 
were in a skiff, on Lake Mendota, which capsized 
and he was drowned. So ended what at one time 
had promised to be a great career as a minister of 
the gospel. 

In the journey undertaken for his benefit there 
was nothing worthy of special mention. It was the 
itinerary usual with those who go abroad for the 


179 


180 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


first time, and it ended with a sore disappointment 
on my part. 

The year after our coming to New York my 
wife and I spent three months in Europe, taking 
the ordinary route to England, France, Switzer- 
land, and Holland. It was a delightful tour, but 
with no occasions calling for an extended remark. 

In 1895 there came an occasion of great signifi- 
cance. The Evangelist, of New York, organ- 
ized a party of Presbyterians to visit in a historic 
study the headquarters of the Reformed Move- 
ments in Furope. It was to be more than a junket- 
ing trip. It was to get in sympathetic touch with 
the Presbyterianism of the old world. Arrange- 
ments had been made for receptions at the various 
centers and for such guidance by leaders there as 
would give us “ close up”’ knowledge of our Euro- 
pean forbears. Henry R. Elliot, manager of The 
Evangelist and organizer of the tour, invited us to 
go with the party at only the cost of my giving 
addresses and responses on behalf of our pilgrims. 
Of course we gladly accepted the generous invita- 
tion. It was a very congenial company that set sail. 
Dr. Henry M. Field, editor of The Evangelist, and 
Mr. Elliot did everything to make the trip both de- 
lightful and memorable. 

We were to be expected guests at the various 
Presbyterian headquarters in Europe. What more 
could Presbyterian travelers desire? At Queens- 
town we were met by the man who was to be our 


OVERSEAS 181 


guide in the British Isles, Dr. William Carruthers, 
late curator of the Botanical section of the British 
Museum, a man of rare accomplishments and of 
charming personality. The welcome we received 
from him was a forecast of what we had to expect. 

Our first point of contact with our historic 
Church was at Belfast. As our train slowed down 
at the station we were surprised to see awaiting us 
a large committee headed by the Lord Mayor in all 
the regalia of his office, his dignified mace-bearer 
at his side. One or two ministers made addresses 
of welcome to which I replied. We were driven to 
a large hall where an important public reception had 
been staged. The learning and beauty of Belfast . 
were on hand. Scholarly papers of profuse length 
were presented by eminent leaders of the Church, 
addresses of welcome and responses were given and 
a bountiful collation crowned the occasion. On 
Sunday I preached in the Rosemary Church. We 
dined at the manse of one of the great men of Bel- 
fast, Rev. Dr. Lind, an ex-Moderator of the Irish 
Assembly, and in the evening heard him preach an 
excellent sermon. But greater than his sermon was 
his voice. I have seldom been so moved with 
Scripture reading as by his. Would that our semi- 
naries impressed on our young ministers the value 
of training in that line. 

After a few days in the old town full of cordial- 
ity and of information, in which we learned much 
of America’s indebtedness to Scotch-Irish leaders 


182 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


who had dared and suffered for a free Church, we 
crossed the Irish Sea, en route to the land and city 
of John Knox. Edinburgh, even to the tourist, is 
a fascinating city. To the student of history it is 
far more. There is no place where the origins of 
American Presbyterianism stand out so dramatic- 
ally. The great service in St. Giles carried us back 
to the Reformation. There is the spot where Jen- 
nie Geddes stood when she flung her three-legged 
argument at the head of a too subservient minister 
of “the things as they were.” ‘There were the 
arches that had echoed the thunders of the preacher 
who “never feared the face of man.”’ And there 
down High Street was the house where were 
forged the thunderbolts that shattered ecclesiastical 
tyranny. And down in the valley was the old 
Greyfriars Church, where the National Covenant 
was signed in 1638 by men who knew it was their 
death warrant and who went joyfully to martyr- 
dom for the faith once delivered to the saints. 
There, also, was Cowgate, where the first General 
Assembly convened. 

In the Antiquarian Museum we saw the very 
stool that Jennie Geddes flung at the minister, and 
we saw also those other persuaders of recalcitrant 
minds—the thumb screw and gag and stone balls, 
and other diabolical inventions. In these later days 
we have discarded those stone and iron arguments. 
Now we are content to cast people out of the 


synagogue. 


OVERSEAS 183 


Free thought in Scotland has had a thorny road 
to travel. It was there in the venerable Church of 
St. Andrews, on May 18, 1843, that Dr. Welsh 
laid his protest on the table, the last argument for 
a free church, and with his brave little company 
marched out, not knowing whither they went— 
knowing only that freedom was better than “a 
living.” 

One evening we had tea in John Knox’s house on 
High Street. Mr. Guthrie, a distinguished bar- 
rister and the son of Dr. Thomas Guthrie, the great 
preacher, gave a delightful historical address which 
the surroundings made vivific. The widow of Dr. 
Guthrie received us, hale and vigorous in spite of 
her eighty-six years. In that room we seemed to 
be in the presence of the man of whom Thomas 
Randolph said to Sir William Cecil, “‘ He put more 
life in us than five Naiehee yatnngs continually 
blustering in our ears.’ 

Not long ago a friend said to me, “ Edinboro’ is 
the most beautiful city in the world.” 

It were easy to dispute that statement. But sure 
it is that no other city except Geneva has in it so 
much to fascinate a Presbyterian. 

One evening we were given a memorable recep- 
tion in the Free Church College Library. About 
two hundred of the leaders of the several Presby- 
terian bodies were present. I say several Presby- 
terian bodies. It is somewhat a matter of common 
knowledge that Scotchmen have independent con- 


184 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


victions, and that when those convictions have 
crystallized, it is hard to combine them with other 
crystals, and that there are, therefore, a good many 
divisions in the Presbyterian Church. 

On this occasion Dr. Blackie presided and gave 
a most felicitous opening address of welcome. 
Other addresses were given by Dr. McGregor, an 
eminent preacher of the Established Church, Dr. 
Wilson, Moderator of the Free Church Assembly, 
Dr. Orr, of the United Presbyterian Church, and 
Mr. Sharrock, of the “ Auld Lichts.” Thus all the 
“Split Peas”’ were well represented. I made re- 
sponse and was followed by Henry R. Elliot and 
the Rev. Dr. Niven (another of our Pilgrims). 
We met many interesting people—Sir Thomas 
Clark, the well known publisher; Sir Grange 
Stewart, physician to the Queen; Lady Ferguson 
(Ann Guinnes), and many others. Of course we 
had tea, and to make sure we had enough, the 
speeches were sandwiched in between tea at the 
beginning of the exercises and tea at the close. 

On Sunday I preached in the Morningside Free 
Church for Dr. Charles A. Salmond. That was 
the beginning of a beautiful friendship. We were 
his guests in his pleasant home and discovered we 
had mutual friends on this side of the sea, for he 
had been a student at Princeton, brought there 
by his desire to study under Dr. Hodge. Among 
other books he gave me was his “ Princetoniana,”’ 
sketches of Princeton people and history and ways. 


OVERSEAS 185 


In the evening we had a beautiful service in his- 
toric St. Giles. It was a communion service, pe- 
culiar but very solemn and effective. The wine 
was not in “individual cups,’ but in great bowls 
centuries old, and requiring strong and steady 
hands to keep the wine in proper bounds. Mr. 
Guthrie, the attorney, a Free Church elder, aided 
in the service. It was the first time a Free Church 
elder had ever been invited to assist at anything in 
the Established Church. He attributed it to our 
presence, for whom the communion had been ar- 
ranged. Those were rare days in Edinboro’. 

The next morning we said good-bye to the beau- 
tiful old town. Many new friends were at the 
station to speed the parting guests. Among them 
were Messrs. Anderson and Ferrier, the publishers, 
who presented me with a photographed copy of 
Burns’ manuscript of “‘ Scots who hae wi’ Wal- 
lace bled.” 

Mr. Moffat, a member as I recall of the same 
firm, was also there to put in our care his daughter 
for the European part of our trip. She was a very 
pleasant Scotch lassie whom twenty years after we 
found in her own beautiful home, the wife of a 
prosperous Edinburgh business man. 

On our way south we visited Melrose Abbey, and 
that great literary shrine, Abbotsford, where for an 
hour we surrendered ourselves to the memories 
and associations of that wizard of Scottish ro- 
mance. Historical novels have been much the fash- 


186 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


ion in recent years, but the “ Waverlies ”’ still retain 
their charm as the best historical novels ever 
written. 

At Dumfries we were taken to the house and 
then the grave of Burns. What a hold on Scottish 
people has that man who sang the songs of the 
heart! So much in. him that was not lovable, is 
there any poet who commands a deeper love? A 
drive over the moors took us successively to Cam- 
eron’s monument and the grave of John Brown, the 
Christian carrier of Priesthill, cruelly shot by 
Claverhouse. We lived over again the days of the 
Covenanters. I wonder whether in these more 
placid days we would find men who for the faith 
once delivered to the saints would withstand Clav- 
erhouse and his cohorts. 

Stirling had for me a special interest because 
there was the little church where my father-in-law, 
Dr. Robert Boyd, had preached. Of course, the 
historic castle was full of memorials. There was 
the room where Earl Douglas was slain by the 
king. And there was the pulpit from which John 
Knox thundered that Gospel which dethroned kings 
and queens and established religious liberty. Our 
guide was Hay Fleming, who threw some doubts 
on some of the memorials. But the traveler pre- 
fers the things that are to the erudition of the 
antiquarian. 

Nobody goes to England on a pleasure tour with- 
out a stop at Chester. The cathedral associated 


OVERSEAS 187 


with the name of Dean Howson was full of inter- 
est. Much of its present charm is due to restora- 
tions made by him. Our social functions there 
were first a luncheon with the Lord Bishop, where 
we met the Bishop of Calcutta, the Misses Wimbur- 
ton and other interesting people, and then a tea 
with the Misses Howson, the cultivated and 
friendly daughters of the Dean. Miss Howson 
gave me a photograph of her distinguished father. 

In the evening we returned from these devious 
by-paths of Episcopacy to the plainer Presbyterian 
highways. We were called to the Presbyterian 
church to a meeting arranged in our honor. On the 
way thither we stopped at the Welsh Church at the 
request of the minister and had a rather long ad- 
dress from the said minister, with the penalty that 
we were late at the Presbyterian church. The min- 
ister was much put out because the Mayor’s dep- 
uty, who had come to give us official welcome, was 
kept waiting. However, the atmosphere cleared 
up. We were decorated with roses and listened to 
four addresses, by the Presbyterian minister, by a 
Welsh pastor, by the Moderator of the Presbytery 
of Liverpool, and by the Mayor’s deputy. I re- 
plied, followed by Mr. Elliot and by Dr. Landon, 
President of the San Francisco Theological Semi- 
nary, and one of our party. A record I made of 
the occasion at the time says, “It was a fairly 
stupid evening.” I suppose the seven addresses 
were too much for me. 


188 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


The next morning, after going to Matthew 
Henry’s house, having our pictures taken there, and 
to his monument, we made the tour of the famous 
“Walls” and then went into an ancient crypt with 
very fine Gothic roof of manifestly very early date. 
Alas, it had become a wine cellar! 

Then through beautiful scenery down the line to 
Oxford. ‘There we were glad to meet two of our 
New York friends, Dr. Francis Brown and Dr. 
Charles A. Briggs, of Union Seminary. Our stay 
in Oxford was short, but we visited a number of 
the colleges—St. Johns, Christ Church, Trinity, 
Oriel and Magdalen. 

After a glance at the Bodleian Library we slid 
down to London, or up to London, as a Briton 
would say. Soon after our arrival a notable re- 
ception was given us. I think it was in King’s 
Hall. Many eminent men were there. The Mod- 
erator of the London Presbytery presided. Ad- 
dresses were given by Dr. J. Monro Gibson, John 
Watson (Ian Maclaren), who had come from Liv- 
erpool especially for that occasion; the American 
Ambassador, Hon. Thomas F. Bayard; Dr. Henry 
M. Field (who after leaving us at Queenstown had 
joined us in London) and myself. After a social 
hour Dr. Carruthers made a few remarks, and a - 
most scholarly paper was read by Principal Dykes. 
When the Moderator took Dr. Field and me by the 
hand the entire audience rose in cordial greeting. 
It was an occasion long to be remembered by us all. 


OVERSEAS 189 


The next day after a drive through the city we 
went to a reception by the Dean of Westminster. 
He gave us a long address (over an hour) in the 
Jerusalem Chamber, on the Abbey and its cham- 
bers. Of course the address was full of history, 
most of it new to us. He then conducted us 
through a part of the Abbey not usually open to 
the public. 

The evening of that day in the parlors of our 
hotel was rendered delightful by the presence of 
American friends, my old friend Dr. Oscar A. 
Hills and Major and Mrs. Thatcher from my 
church in Kansas City. The next morning Dr. 
Carruthers, who had already done so much for us, 
took us to the British Museum. Of course that 
meant a charming forenoon. Mr. Murray, the 
head and supreme authority on Classical Antiqui- 
ties, took us through that department. Dr. Budge, 
also an authority, took us through the Assyrian 
rooms. His explanations of the Assurbanipal tab- 
lets and cylinders was intensely interesting. Would 
I had more record of that forenoon, for of course 
memory cannot hold much after all these years. I 
remember asking him in regard to the relations of 
Moses and the early Assyrian records. He said 
they both came, or radiated, from an earlier tradi- 
tion. That sounded as if Dr. Budge belonged to 
the modern critical school. Dr. Garnett, the head 
of the Library, took us through that huge depart- 
ment with its nearly two million books and its im- 


190 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


mense reading room, whose dome is as wide as St. 
Peters. He also carried us through the history of 
printing and through departments not open to the 
public. We held in our hands the Bible which 
Anne Boleyn took with her as she mounted the 
scaffold. To have a half day within those historic 
walls under conduct of those experts was indeed a 
privilege. 

One of the pleasant features of our London visit 
was a tea at the home of my old Chicago friend and 
neighbor, Dr. J. Monro Gibson. He had a very 
successful pastorate of the Second Presbyterian 
Church of Chicago in the seventies, then was called 
to the St. John’s Wood Presbyterian Church in 
London, and had many years of service there when 
we met at his home. He easily became one of the 
leaders of the English Presbyterian Church, active 
in all good works and venerated alike for his intel- 
lectual power and his spiritual influence. A few 
years ago he retired from active service, and almost 
as I write these words, he entered on the im- 
mortal life. 

Of course our trip took us to Canterbury. Aside 
from our appreciation of the beautiful Cathedral, 
the event of our visit was our reception by the 
French pastor of the Huguenot Church, who read 
us an address in the crypt where for three hundred 
years this exiled little church has worshipped. 

Like most travelers, we approached the Channel 
with some qualms—not of conscience! However, 


OVERSEAS 191 


the Calais crossing is short and the “neck of the 
bottle” was quiet. So we had a peaceful voyage, 
and were soon pleasantly housed in Paris, the most 
beautiful of cities. 

One of the first events was, as usual, the re- 
ception—this time by the French Huguenot So- 
ciety in their Library Hall. Baron De Shickler, 
President of the Society, gave an address. The 
Librarian gave a stereopticon lecture on the history 
of the persecutions in the time of Francis I. 
Pére Hyacinthe followed in a beautiful address 
in French. 

This recalls my first meeting with the Pére. It 
was during my residence in Kansas City. We had 
arranged a reception for him by the ministers of 
the city. I was appointed to give an address of 
welcome. Not sure of my French—or rather very 
sure it would be bad—I gave it in good North 
American English. The Pére responded in his 
eloquent way. At the close of his address he stag- 
gered me by taking me in his arms and kissing me 
on both cheeks! The brethren saw my embarrass- 
ment and rounded off the occasion with ringing 
applause. 

Another occasion of interest in the French capi- 
tal was the unveiling, in the Rue de Rivoli, of a 
statue of Coligny. Several addresses recalled the 
days of the Revolution—especially that night when 
in the palace directly opposite the statue, the French 
King could not sleep, but walked the gilded halls 


192 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


in the consternation of a guilty conscience because 
he had given orders that on the morrow the great 
bell in San Germain l Auxerrois should sound the 
death knell of the Huguenots. 

It goes without saying that our visits to various 
McAll Mission halls were full of interest and of 
hope for the future of Protestantism. In the quar- 
ter of a century since that visit to Paris the signs 
have still more brightened, and though seen 
through smoke clouds of the World War, there is 
a.vision of a new France delivered from the bond- 
age of Romanism and rising to take her full part in 
the development of a Christian civilization. 

We left Paris on a Saturday morning for the 
long ride to Geneva. That we might have comfort 
on the trip, we paid special fare for a first-class 
fast train. All went well till the approach of din- 
ner time. At Macon the train was cut intwo. The 
sharper grade up toward the Alps called for two 
sections. ‘The dining car was attached to the sec- 
ond section and our section, minus a diner, pulled 
out for the mountains. So we nursed our appe- 
tites by thinking of what might have been and went 
on to Geneva. There we discovered that our lug- 
gage was also on the second section. We had to 
wait for that. By the time we reached our hotel 
we were fairly clamorous for food. The ways of 
the railroad company in providing food for pas- 
sengers were, and continue to be, past finding out. 
This would be a good point at which to make 


OVERSEAS 193 


bromidic remarks anent the railways, but the good 
times I have had in Europe in spite of the railways 
halt my pen. 

Repeated visits to Geneva have not dulled the 
fascination with which I first regarded the beauti- 
ful city. An illustration of the confiding character 
of the Swiss people came out when a member of 
our party was admiring a fine Swiss watch in one 
of the shops and expressed a desire that he might 
have it. 

“Why not take it?’ inquired the proprietor. 

“T have not that much money in my pocket,” 
was the reply. 

“Why not give me your cheque? ”’ persisted the 
proprietor. The American expressed surprise. 

“T am a stranger from a far country. Do you 
mean you would take a cheque from a nameless 
man on a nameless bank? I would not do that in 
New York if a European stranger came in and 
proposed to give me a personal cheque.” 

“Ah!” replied the watch-man. “ You did not 
offer me your cheque. I should have declined it. I 
asked you for it. You see the difference? ”’ 

So my surprised friend passed in his cheque and 
walked away with the very valuable watch. 

In these notes I shall have occasion to refer again 
to Geneva, so for the present I pass on to Inter- 
laken and thence to Grindelwald, where we had an 
invitation to the summer home of Mme. d’Aubigné, 
the widow of the celebrated writer of the “ History 


194 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


of the Reformation.” It was a beautiful home 
looking out on the snow-covered mountains. And 
beautiful was the hospitality with which we were 
received. An address by a French minister, Mr. 
Berlier, and a response by me were followed by the 
usual tea, and that by an interesting lecture on the 
Glaciers by a distinguished geologist. Dr. Field 
took my wife for an excursion over the Wengern 
Alp while I returned to Interlaken. Our wander- 
ings around the region of the Bernese Alps is 
ground so familiar that I pass without a mention 
our trip over the Brinig Pass on to Lucerne (where 
we had the only poor hotel in our travels), around 
the lake and up the Rigi, and so on to Heidelberg 
and Mainz and finally Cologne. But as we found 
no Presbyterian headquarters along that route there 
is nothing for our Pilgrims to record. 

We found our next reception in dear old Hol- 
land. At Amsterdam we were received by a com- 
mittee of ministers and proceeded to the “ Old 
Church,” where Dr. Field and I responded to the 
very friendly greetings of the Hollanders. Thence 
to the “ New Church,” more a cathedral than a 
church, full of beautiful carvings and monuments 
of Dutch heroes. It is the church where the Queen 
worships when in the city. Dr. Thompson, who 
for many years had been the pastor of the English 
Church, was our guide. On this historic spot, the 
persecuted Pilgrims worshipped during the dozen 
years of their exile. 


OVERSEAS 195 


After a day or two in Amsterdam we retraced 
our steps to Leyden. The old University attracted 
us first. How young we felt as we saw the towers 
and walls which were old when Columbus discov- 
ered America. John Robinson’s house was not far 
away. ‘There was the tablet placed there by the 
American Congregational Churches. Twenty-five 
years later (in 1920) I was in Leyden again. How 
few were the changes. From our mercurial Ameri- 
can life to that which from age to age keeps the 
slow, serene and peaceful way, what a contrast! 
What questions the contrast raises! Is it well to 
drive through the world at the American pace? Or 
do the sleepy barges on the Leyden canals suggest 
a wiser and more restful use of time? 

The homecoming had in it little worthy of notice, 
unless the sharpest gale I ever experienced may call 
for mention, or the farewell meeting in the cabin 
as we approached Sandy Hook. The friendships 
formed on such a voyage are not easily broken. 
Many of them remain to this day. They found 
some expression at the meeting in toasts, songs and 
speeches. Among them, these verses may find a 
place: 


LYING AT THE Bar. 


The exile has been long, 
And broad, too broad the sea, 
Across the which my longing heart 
Has beaten heavily. 


196 


CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


And now the sunset falls 
On western hills afar; 

But the sails are down, the tide is out, 
We are lying at the bar. 


And on beyond the sunset gates 
Another land I ween; 

And for its friends my exiled heart 
Hath longings deep and keen. 


Oh! silent tide, when comest thou 
Beyond yon evening star? 

My. thoughts, my hopes are pe on,— 
I am lying at the bar. 


XIV 
FURTHER WANDERINGS 


WIRELESS. 


Said Marcom: I will fing my word 
Over the restless sea and the land; 
And he who is in tune with me, 
He only shall understand. 


Said the poet: From my heart a throb 

Beats o’er the waves to the farthest strand; 
And he whose soul with my soul is one, 

He only shall understand. 


XIV 
FURTHER WANDERINGS 


NE winter my wife and I joined a delight- 
ful company of people for a Mediterranean 
tour, taking with us our young daughter, 

Sydney. Our first stop was at the Island of Ma- 
deira, one of the quaintest of places. It has to me 
one unpleasant memory. That the tour might be 
pictorially preserved I had equipped myself with a 
fine camera. I left it for a few moments on some 
presumably safe resting place. When I returned it 
had been appropriated. How the blame is to be 
divided between the temptation too strong for a 
native and my own carelessness I have not tried to 
balance. A small compensation for my loss was 
the fun we had in sleighing without snow in sleds 
drawn by bullocks, and with runners well oiled to 
serve instead of snow, and also in riding down the 
mountain in similar sleds propelled at a rather 
alarming rate by gravity. Charles, the deposed 
monarch of the Austrian throne, found an enforced 
residence on that Island before his death. If one 
must be a prisoner, it were hard to find a more de- 
lightful spot. 

This voyage gave us our only touch on Spain. 
Landing at Cadiz, a train ride to Seville, dight 

199 


200 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


with quaint buildings and quaint people, then to 
Granada for flying views of the Alhambra which, 
as with Washington Irving, should have had years, 
and then down through the middle of Spain to 
Gibraltar, constituted days not easily forgotten. 
Not in many parts of the world are romance and 
history so brilliantly-blended. 

A voyage on the Mediterranean is a perpetual 
luxury—on waters usually placid and under skies 
like those which hang over Italy. I do not forget. 
that Paul had his troubles there—(not to forget 
Jonah who, whatever may be said of the whale, is 
an undoubted historic character) ; but such experi- 
ences may be classed with bad weather in Cali- 
fornia—wholly exceptional. 

The approach to Constantinople is much more 
beautiful than the city. The general and distant 
views of its palaces, towers and minarets leave 
nothing to be desired. It is rather a pity the trav- 
eler cannot be content with the far and general 
view—steam up into the Black Sea past the towers 
of Europe and Asia and then swing back to “ the 
many nationed sea.” The inspection of the city 
brings many disenchantments. Squalor, yellow 
dogs (since shipped to an island to die), latticed 
windows where beautiful prisoners struggle for a 
glimpse of mankind, and general disrepair are the 
outstanding features which one carries in mind. 
And then one’s unfortunate memory of centuries 
of oppression and cruelty combine to make one 


FURTHER WANDERINGS 201 


willing to take ship again. But there are two 
beauty spots which no traveler should miss—Rob- 
ert College on its stately eminence above the city, 
where hundreds of boys from many nationalities 
are having a chance, and the Constantinople 
Woman’s College across the Bosphorus in Asia 
six miles from the city (now moved to the Euro- 
pean side). Here fifty American teachers are in- 
terpreting to four or five hundred students from 
twenty different nationalities the ideals of Chris- 
tian womanhood. These two beacon-lights give 
hope for the tortured East. 

Our visit at Smyrna was rendered pleasant by 
the fact that the American Consul there was a 
friend of my wife. When our ship cast anchor a 
gorgeously uniformed official of the Consulate ap- 
peared with a special boat to take us ashore. Once 
there we were received with more than official cor- 
diality. The Consul had married a Greek lady of 
that city, which gave us entrée into a beautiful 
native home—and views of the town not otherwise 
so easily seen. A train of camels passing slowly 
down the main street, laden with tapestries and 
spices from the far interior, was our first intima- 
tion that we had indeed come into the Orient. 

Skillful rowing by Arabic boatmen between 
rocks on which Andromeda was supposed to have 
been chained, marked our entrance to the Holy 
Land at the venerable city of Joppa. We were 
ready to accept at face value all the historic tales 


202 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


with which our guides regaled us.) Why not? We 
had come there to get in vivific touch with memo- 
rable ages and why then take the edge off of the 
romance with foolish criticisms which any one 
could make! So that house yonder not far from 
the sea was the identical spot where Peter had the 
great dream which led him to call no man unclean. 
An unspeakable thrill struck us when our train 
slowed down on the southern border of Jerusalem 
and we saw the age old towers rise before us. The 
dream of my life was being realized—we were 
passing through the Gate of David and were within 
the sacred walls. But the disenchantment came 
soon. It was the city over which Jesus wept, and 
which was sad and desolate enough still to draw the 
tears of any who had dreamed of its glory. There 
were many marks of a history which no degrada- 
tion could wholly obscure and no destructive 
changes could wholly obliterate. There were the 
identical walls where Jews of all lands came to 
weep; there was the garden of the Master’s agony 
and the hill of His sacrifice, and there above the 
city was the Bethany that gave Him who had no 
home the one welcome of love and sympathy. 
How often must He have gazed on the beautiful 
distant hills of Moab, with the Jordan like a silver 
thread gleaming in the valley. But the physical 
ruins and the mental gloom and despair were every- 
where apparent. “‘ How often,” and she would not, 
and now indeed she is a city desolate. What is in 


FURTHER WANDERINGS 203 


store for her since General Allenby’s army has en- 
camped around her and Christian powers have 
hoped for a new life for Palestine? Perhaps the 
day of her promised glory may sometime dawn. 
An interesting experience waited us at Alexan- 
dria. The ship had barely anchored when quite a 
family of Greeks came in search of us. A Greek 
boy in elevator service in our Presbyterian Build- 
ing in New York had notified an uncle in Alex- 
andria that we were coming. In what exaggerated 
terms I do not know. But we were received in 
right royal fashion. The “uncle” to whom we 
were commended was evidently a man of affairs. 
We had a taste of the finest Greco-Egyptian hospi- 
tality. We were urged to stay for a month or a 
year and it was with difficulty we were able to de- 
cline an invitation to his country place somewhere 
up in Egypt. Conversation was, of course, through 
an interpreter, except that one of the sons was able 
to understand our halting French. Before we left 
I invited this young man some day to come to New 
York. I had no thought he would ever accept the 
invitation, but we had been home but a short time 
when he appeared. Though the son of a wealthy 
man, so strongly was he taken by New York that 
he accepted service in our building and became per- 
manently an American. At Christmas time he ap- 
peared in my office with an inlaid box tied with a 
blue ribbon and containing two thousand Egyptian 
cigarettes, a present from his father. They would 


204 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


have lasted me for indefinite years, but I had many 
friends. An increasing number indeed, and so the 
beautiful cigarettes disappeared. 

I anticipated the approach to Cairo with peculiar 
pleasure. For there I was to meet my lifelong 
friend, Dr. Andrew Watson, of the United Pres- 
byterian Mission. Though college mates in Car- 
roll College and roommates in Princeton, we had 
not met for many years, as he was giving all his life 
to Egypt. So we had a good time. I preached to 
his Arabic congregation and greatly enjoyed seeing 
the evidences of the good work he had done. He 
has recently gone Home full of years and honors. 

Very few go to Cairo without going up the great 
river. To Luxor we went by train—an English 
railway equipped about as it would be in England. 
From Luxor, with its mile of great columns declar- 
ing the glorious days of the Pharaohs, we went 
with donkeys over the desert to the tombs of the 
Kings at Thebes. I think that was the most as- 
tounding revelation of anything we encountered in 
our long journey. The long approach to the tombs, 
down decorated ramps, prepared one for the tre- 
mendous halls in which the Kings lie entombed. 
There they lie in plain view in their cerements of 
thousands of years—in vaults and catacombs bril- 
liantly lit with electric lights. The lights were the 
last thing in modern science. The decorations they 
revealed were four thousand years old, the colors as 
fresh apparently as when first laid. There were no 


FURTHER WANDERINGS 205 


electric lights to enable the artists to work. They 
could not have worked in the dark, nor yet with 
smoking torches. How did they do it? Science 
answers many questions. I think it has not an- 
swered that question. 

An incident touching that ride over the desert is 
worth a mention. Several years ago, during the 
Presidency of Theodore Roosevelt, I was preaching 
one summer Sunday in Oyster Bay. The Presi- 
dent was at church and invited me to dine with 
him. In a moment’s lull at the table, I turned to 
young Archie (at that time about twelve years old) 
and said, ‘‘ Archie, I believe I will tell you a story.” 
The table listened to the story I would tell the boy. 

“A short time ago I was in Egypt,’ I said. “I 
had gone there to get in touch with ages long gone. 
Instead I was in the midst of a good deal of modern 
civilization—English hotels and railroads, and even 
electricity lighting up the mummies of Kings. But 
as we rode over the desert we seemed to be getting 
back where I longed to be—nothing but deserts and 
ruined temples. It seemed as if we might even see 
Moses somewhere among the ruins. Then I turned 
to the little Arab, who was driving my donkey, and 
said, 

“* Boy, what is my donkey’s name?’ 

“Quick as a flash he replied, “Hish name ish 
Teddy.’ ” 

The family burst into laughter in which the 
President joined heartily. When the laugh had 


206 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


somewhat subsided Archie spoke up in a drawling 
voice, “ Well, I guess in about two years that 
donkey will have another name.” 

The wife of the Episcopal rector seemed to feel 
that the President was getting it rather hard, so she 
remarked, ‘“ But I think Teddy is a name that 
will last.’ . 

“And J think Archie has the right of it,’ Mrs. 
Roosevelt said. 

Our journey was continued up the Nile past the 
beautiful submerged temple of Phile to the first 
cataract, and to the great dam, which English skill 
has built. The marvels of nature and of science 
there apparent made impressions never to be lost. 
There is little more of that trip to be recorded. A 
visit to my son Vance, then living in San Remo, 
and the homeward journey with several stops in 
Europe completed experiences of many kinds never 
to be effaced. Not the least of which were the 
friendships we formed. ‘They have gone on into 
all subsequent years and constitute the best output 
of the long voyage. 

My next touch on Europe was in 1910. The oc- 
casion was the great ecumenical Foreign Mission- 
ary Conference in Edinburgh, to which I had been 
chosen a delegate. It was the largest and most sig- 
nificant gathering of missionaries from all com- 
munions and from nearly all lands—a delegation of 
about two thousand. For ten days the great ques- 
tions connected with missionary life and adminis- 


FURTHER WANDERINGS 207 


tration were discussed by experts who had come 
prepared to give the best that was in them to the 
furthering of closer fellowship and more effective 
cooperation. It had no reference to a union of 
denominations, but rather to a union of plans and 
service. 

At the close of the convention a Continuation 
Committee was appointed to gather up and organ- 
ize the accumulations of knowledge and experience 
to the end that Foreign Missions might get a new 
and stronger grip on the consciousness and con- 
science of the Church at large. That Committee 
still functions and while it were difficult to try to 
measure its influence toward the ends it seeks there 
can be no doubt that the irenic spirit of that con- 
ference is still felt through all branches of the 
Christian Church. 

After leaving the Conference, we went to Paris 
to visit my son Vance. I was scheduled to preach 
for several Sundays in the American Chapel there. 
I, however, signalized my arrival by slipping on the 
waxed stairs of my son’s house and falling with a 
crash to the bottom. A doctor came promptly and 
discovered nothing more serious than a broken 
ligament in my side. It gave abundant pain and I 
was confined to the bed for several days, but this 
was Saturday night, and the question was how to 
get hold of a preacher for the next day. I did not 
know the address of anyone in Paris who could 
locate a minister, the only thing to do was to send 


208 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


my wife and daughter to church early with the in- 
structions to stand by the church doors and catch 
anyone who looked like a minister! 

This they did with such success that they caught 
three—Drs. Burrell, Mendenhall and Swift, who 
each spoke for ten minutes. Fortunately it was the 
third of July, and no American is ever at a loss as 
to what to say as the Fourth approaches. But I 
always told those brothers that it took three of them 
to fill my place. 

Somewhat later we wandered off into Germany, 
our objective being the Passion Play at Oberam- 
mergau. My notes say, “The play was great. 
Hard strain on mind and heart. The emotions are 
much stirred. It was reverently done, and the im- 
pression is good.” 

We found a comfortable home with one of the 
Pharisees. As we got out of our carriage, a fat 
and comely German maiden came to help us. I 
wished to greet her pleasantly, so I remarked with 
great distinctness, 

“ It-is-a-pleasant-day.”’ 

‘Yes,’ she replied briskly, “but yesterday it 
rained to beat the band.” | 

“Hello!” I exclaimed, “where did you get 
that?” 

“Oh,” she said, “ I used to live in Hoboken.” 

There were many interesting days later in the 
haunts of Luther, of Goethe and Schiller, but 
nothing worth mentioning except that at Mainz, 


FURTHER WANDERINGS 209 


after watching the Kaiser review thirty thousand 
troops, we waited on the corner of a street to see 
him come riding down, with his staff at a smart gal- 
lop. It was a fine sight, but after he had passed I 
missed my pocketbook. It had evidently been taken 
at the moment of highest excitement. 

Fortunately it had only five dollars in it, (though 
there were other things of value in it) and consid- 
ering all the Kaiser has done since, I incline to 
think he was cheap at that price. 

I went abroad again in 1914 on a most signifi- 
cant mission. For years the international atmos- 
phere had been charged with ominous signs of war. 
The diplomats of the old world were nervous. But 
there was no thought of immediate war. To finda 
firmer basis for international peace it was proposed 
by Church leaders in England and America to call 
together representatives from many nations to try 
to find a basis of world friendship. A Conference 
was called to meet in the venerable city of Con- 
stance, in Germany, on August first. I was again 
one of the delegates. My wife and daughter and I 
anticipated the meeting by a month in Switzerland. 
The month was spent mainly among the Bernese 
Alps and was enlivened by a visit from my son 
Vance, who was living in France. Specially fine 
was the automobile ride on which he took us from 
Grindelwald to Berne, the special object of which 
was to get my signature to a conveyance of title to 
a farm he had owned in Colebrook, Connecticut, 


210 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


near my summer home. That errand was speedily 
accomplished, but the all day ride among those 
glorious scenes remains a permanent possession. 

We reached Constance on the last day of July 
and were challenged for our passports as we stepped 
from the train. It was the first intimation of 
trouble. We knew, of course, of the assassinations 
in Serbia. But away up in the Alps we had learned 
little of the storm that was brewing. With eighty 
other delegates we were quartered in the hotel made 
famous by having been the monastery where John 
Huss, five hundred years before, had been tried and 
condemned. On Sunday we became conscious that 
the clouds had gathered. Final messages were 
passing back and forth between the Chancellaries 
of Europe. I remember it was on that morning 
that Dr. Thomas C. Hall, from New York, a mem- 
ber of the Conference, showed me a telegram from 
his wife at Gottingen begging him to come home, 
as several soldiers had been quartered on them. 
He took train at once. It was the last time I saw 
him. He is now a citizen of Germany and during 
the war was, of course, ea: committed to the 
German cause. 

That Sunday evening we held the first formal 
meeting of the Conference. It was an hour of 
devotions. We were not sure of what was coming. 
The Assistant Court preacher from Berlin went 
down to police headquarters to get at the situation. 
At eleven o’clock he returned with the startling 


FURTHER WANDERINGS 211 


news that we must leave at nine o'clock in the morn- 
ing or we could not go at all. All trains would be 
in the hands of the army. Mobilization had begun. 
Then came our difficulty. We counted our money 
and found we hadn’t enough to pay our hotel bills 
or to buy tickets to London. All banks were closed. 
We went to the proprietor of the hotel with our 
dilemma. He was a Swiss and very kind. 

“You go,” he said. “‘ My servants are leaving. 
I must close the hotel. If you get money you can 
send it to me.”’ 

“But,” we continued, “we have not money 
enough to buy our tickets. Our drafts are no 
good.”’ 

The good fellow went out into the town and bor- 
rowed enough to supplement our meager means, so 
that we could get away to London. In the morn- 
ing that good friend sent eighty lunches and bottles 
of Apollinaris to the train that we might have 
something to eat and drink during the day. But 
we never got a bite of the one or a drink of the 
other. It was to follow us with our baggage on a 
second section. The soldiers took it all. 

Our train was so crowded that we were full of 
discomfort and of course we were hungry. Now 
and then a friend who had a few pennies left 
brought in a loaf of bread and parcelled it out. 
The signs of the impending conflict were all about 
us—soldiers guarding every bridge and ordering 
train windows closed for fear we should throw out 


212 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


bombs, and artillery wagons rattling through the 
towns, soldiers mounted thereon like stone images. 
We had been guaranteed protection to Cologne. 
What would happen there we did not know. Our 
German preacher (the only German at the Confer- 
ence) had gone with us to Cologne to help us on. 
At the station he charged us to sit silent in our cars 
or, if ordered to get out, to sit silent on the plat- 
form while he went to headquarters to see what he 
could do. He came back cheerful. It was near 
midnight and our “ protection” had expired, but 
he had succeeded in getting a special order to run 
us down to the border of Holland. At three o’clock 
in the night, in a driving storm, we changed to a 
Dutch train and in the morning were in Flushing, 
where a crowded and unlovely steamer took us on 
board, and after a perilous dodging of mines (with 
which the sea was already sown) landed us on 
English soil. 

It was night when we reached Victoria Station. 
Trafalgar Square as far as one could see was a 
solid block of people. ‘‘ What is all this?” we in- 
quired, and were told England’s ultimatum had 
gone to Berlin, and London was holding its breath. 
Would it be peace or war? Presently the great 
bells of the city struck the hour. The die was cast. 
The time set in the ultimatum had expired. En- 
gland was at war with Germany. 

There is little else to record of that trip. We 
were present in the House of Commons when a 


FURTHER WANDERINGS 213 


famous decision was made concerning the Irish 
question. We had tea once or twice on the Parlia- 
ment Terrace with some of the members, one of 
whom was J. Allen Baker, a well known Quaker, 
who had been prominent in the Peace Conference. 
Later we were with him in his beautiful home on 
the outskirts of London, and went with him to the 
Friends’ Burying Ground, where lie Isaac Watts 
and Bunyan and others who have left their imprint 
on the world. 

After some exciting days in London, we fled to 
the peace of Broadway, a picturesque old town 
where we had some friends. The Inn there, dating 
back three hundred years, is a veritable museum, 
with its beautiful old furniture. It is a rather ex- 
clusive place, too, and it was somewhat disturbing 
to the proprietor to have several Americans sud- 
denly descend upon him without the formality of 
previous notice. His desire to fill up his vacant 
rooms forbade his turning us away, but his pride 
required that he should make very clear to us that 
his place always was full, and that if it had not 
been for the fact of war, causing his patrons to 
cancel their reservations, there would not have been 
the slightest chance for us. 

In 1920, several occasions called me to Europe. 
After our flight from Germany, in 1914, those of 
us who could do so met in London to consummate 
the work we had intended to do in Constance, 
namely to organize the World Alliance for Interna- 


214 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


tional Friendship, an organization made possible 
by Mr. Carnegie’s large gifts toward the cause 
of peace. Then came the war and we could not 
hold another meeting so long as that world horror 
lasted. So we planned to meet for that purpose 
in St. Beatenberg, in Switzerland. The same 
year two other functions appeared. One was a 
Conference on Faith and Order, convening in 
Geneva. The other was the European celebra- 
tion of the landing of the Pilgrims in 1620. I was 
appointed a delegate to both of these. 

My wife and I sailed for England in July. A 
severe cold kept me housed in London for a week, 
making me miss a few appointments. I preached, 
however, in the Dulwich Church morning and 
evening early in August, and the next day we went 
on to Paris, by a prosaic channel steamer, while 
our friend, Hamilton Holt, who had come over to 
England on the same steamer with us, was flying 
over our heads in the clear blue sky of a lovely day. 
But I will wait for that till I get my own wings. 

Unable to get a sleeping car to Geneva for sev- 
eral days, my wife spent one day on the battle- 
fields. I missed that because my cold still lingered. 
However, we finally reached Geneva, where the 
first person to greet us was my son Vance, who had 
come up from Nice to have a week with us. 

The Conference began the next day—a notable 
gathering of church dignitaries from many lands 
—called on motion of the Lambeth Conference to 


FURTHER WANDERINGS 215 


consider ways and means of church union. The 
spirit of those days was all that could be desired. 
But some hurdles appeared which we found diffi- 
cult to get over, notably the question of church 
orders. We could agree on a simple creed. We 
were all weary of the cumbersome creeds of the 
creed-making ages. We found no great difficulty 
in church sacraments. But when it came to a 
union in church orders, involving the validity of 
non-Episcopal ordination, then our troubles began. 
There is no need here of going into the discussions 
of those days. Enough to say that the Episcopal 
Church went farther than it had ever gone before, 
but yet not far enough to satisfy most of the Non- 
conformist brethren. The outcome was a set of 
resolutions expressing the importance of church 
union, the delightful spirit of Christian fellowship 
that had abounded and the purpose to keep on 
thinking and praying and hoping. Anyhow, some 
progress had been made and it seemed to be a pre- 
cursor of better times. 

Before the World Alliance meeting, we had a 
few days for recreation in the Alps. We had re- 
peatedly been among the mountains around Inter- 
laken but never up to Murren. We had a delightful 
day and night on that summit of tremendous view. 
I know of nothing in the Alps or in other moun- 
tains I have visited comparable to the magnificence 
of the panorama spread out before the visitor to 
Mirren. There the whole Bernese Oberland 


216 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


swings into view—a sort of revolving scene—as 
range after range is followed. The wonderful 
Sabbath amid those white-robed priests prepared us 
for the peaceful and beautiful days that followed 
at St. Beatenberg. There were church representa- 
tives from many lands, including Germany. We 
were so near the War, and its memories were still 
so painful, that the presence of French and German 
delegates in the same room came very near a clash. 
The French demanded, as a condition of their re- 
maining, that the Germans should plead guilty to 
the war. The Germans declined, unless the French 
would also plead guilty. There came an impasse. 
It was finally evaded by the proposition of the 
French that they would meet the Germans in con- 
ference 1f we would enter their protest on our 
records. This was done and then at least a super- 
ficial peace reigned. 

A most interesting phase of the discussions on a 
world in friendship was the presence with us of 
quite a delegation of the Greek Catholic Church. 
(Several of them had been also in Geneva.) Their 
desire for closer relations with Protestant Chris- 
tianity was marked and emphatic. They declared 
they were much nearer to us than to the Roman 
Catholic Church. They even raised the question of 
union. This movement has made further progress 
in the last few years. During a recent summer the 
newly elected Patriarch of Constantinople, His 
Holiness Meletrios, visited our country on a mis- 


FURTHER WANDERINGS 217 


sion of friendship and appeared in many Protestant 
congregations to plead for closer fellowship. 
Events in the Near East (into which I cannot go 
here) have inspired many forward-looking people 
with the hope that Divine Providence may be shap- 
ing a shaken world to bring His people into solider 
ranks to bring in the Kingdom. 

The Mayflower celebrations were scheduled in 
Europe for Holland and England. Both had made 
elaborate preparations. The Dutch felt a fatherly 
interest in the Pilgrims. It was in their land that 
they imbibed the principles of Dutch freedom in 
church and state. So we had a warm welcome in 
Holland. Queen Wilhelmina invited the American 
and English delegates to her summer home. Our 
train was late, so we missed that function, but those 
who attended were loud in their praises of the very 
gracious and cordial ways in which Her Majesty 
welcomed her guests. There were three great re- 
ligious meetings arranged in the three cathedral 
churches—in Amsterdam, Rotterdam and Leyden. 
In each place the audiences were immense. The 
singing by well trained choruses was an inspiration. 
Although not all of the audience could understand 
our addresses, they were all aware of the signifi- 
cance of the great assemblies and entered with en- 
thusiasm into all the services. 

Several social functions were given us by the 
University of Leyden, and by the authorities of 
the town. There were also large and elegant ban- 


218 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


quets in Amsterdam and Rotterdam. At the 
Hague we were given a luncheon by the American 
minister, Mr. Phillips, where we met many dis- 
tinguished English and American people, among 
them Elihu Root, who was at the Hague for the 
purpose of helping to set up an international court. 

We were present.at two of the celebrations in 
England. ‘The most spectacular one was at Ply- 
mouth, the port of Pilgrim departure. For several 
days there were pageants, speeches, dinners and 
motor tours. To us the most interesting occasion 
was at a tea given by Lady Astor on Lord Morley’s 
magnificent estate a few miles out of Plymouth. 
There were a couple of hundred guests. A pleas- 
ant incident was our talk with Lady Astor, at 
whose table we happened to be seated. Earl Read- 
ing, then Lord Chief Justice, and Lady Reading 
were at the same little table. I was seated beside 
Lady Astor and soon discovered she was inclined to 
be very sociable, she being also an American. At 
one of the meetings she had occasion to defend her 
native state, Virginia, and to declare the celebration 
should not have been in honor of the Pilgrim Fath- 
ers so much as in honor of the earlier migration to 
Virginia. Was not Virginia the land of George 
Washington and Thomas Jefferson?—and so on. 
At the tea table I was bold enough to challenge her 
speech and to maintain the historic rights of Massa- 
chusetts. So the banter went back and forth. 
Vance had given me a new hat in Geneva. I gave 


FURTHER WANDERINGS 219 


her the hat and my fountain pen and asked her to 
honor it and me with her autograph. ‘This she 
very willingly did to the evident amusement of the 
Lord Chief Justice and others. When we came to 
say good-bye, she said, “ Now that I know you I 
am a convert to Massachusetts.”’ 

An amusing sequence to this talk occurred when, 
on writing to my daughter, Sydney, I recounted the 
incident briefly, and wound up by saying I had 
“converted Lady Astor to Mass.’”’ On my return I 
was somewhat amused to find that my daughter 
had been mystified to know why I should have con- 
verted Lady Astor to Roman Catholicism! Later, 
when my daughter went to London for the purpose 
of giving a few recitals, Lady Astor entertained 
her at her home and at tea on the terrace of the 
House of Commons. 

The other great Mayflower meeting we attended 
was in Albert Hall in London, where ten thousand 
people were gathered to do honor to the Pilgrims. 
I could not refrain from saying to a few English- 
men how very remarkable were the English demon- 
strations when one remembered that the Pilgrims 
fled from England because they could not endure 
the religious restrictions that were put upon them. 
The rejoinder to my ungracious remark was suf- 
ficient. ‘‘ Ah, but that was three hundred years 
ago!” Almost anything can happen in three hun- 
dred years. 

Among the choicest recollections of our sojourn 


220 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


in England were the pleasant personal acquaint- 
ances we made. Especially did we enjoy renewing 
our fellowship with dear Dr. Jowett,* both in his 
church and in his home at Croyden. His bow then 
still abode in strength. I think his great heart 
sometimes longed for the fellowships ‘he had in 
New York. : 

Our voyage home was also pleasant because of 
the agreeable people we met. Among them [ be- 
came more intimately acquainted with Bishop 
Talbot, of the Protestant Episcopal Diocese of 
Pennsylvania. We threshed over again the grist 
of the Lambeth Conference and agreed if Episcopal 
ordination was a pretty stiff hurdle we would do 
the best we could to get around it. We came home 
to finish the summer at our delightful Orchard 
Nook at Norfolk. As that holds so large a part 
of my heart I may speak of it later. 

But while rambling along about overseas ex- 
periences, I may as well give a touch to my 
trip as delegate to the Congress on Christian 
Work in Latin America held in Panama, in Febru- 
ary, 1916. 

It was a memorable meeting of Christian forces 
from North and South America, called in the hope 
of making closer bonds between the peoples North 
and South, and for the purpose of forming more 
adequate and cooperative plans for Christian ad- 


* Dr. John Henry Jowett. 


FURTHER WANDERINGS 221 


vance. Robert E. Speer was the Chairman, and 
the Executive Secretary was the Rev. S. G. In- 
man, whose name has been so closely associated 
with work among the Latin peoples to the south 
of us. 

My work in this connection was as chairman of 
the Commission on Cooperation and the Promotion 
of Unity, which has so long been a theme of vital 
interest to me. 

The Conference was a pronounced success both 
in the representative character of the delegates and 
in the spirit of unity which marked the utterances 
of the men and women gathered there from the 
twenty-one republics whose flags floated over us as 
we talked together. 

We thoroughly enjoyed the fellowship, as of 
course we enjoyed the wonders of the Canal, our 
trip upon it, and our various views of the sur- 
roundings of that little strip of United States land 
that binds the two oceans. 

On the return voyage our boat stopped for a day 
at Bocas del Toro, a rather busy little town (for 
the tropics), and then at Almarante, where we 
watched forty thousand bunches of bananas being 
loaded on the ship. We also went by train into the 
banana district, and over the river into Costa Rico, 
passing through miles of jungle largely filled with 
crocodiles, snakes and monkeys, but with many 
pretty clearings for the homes of the workers. 
After seeing more banana farms than I thought 


222 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


existed, we returned to the boat and continued on 
our way north. 

One morning there was much excitement on 
board—it takes so little to create excitement on 
board ship—because of mysterious signaling from 
a sail boat. We hove to and found that they were 
seventeen days out from Colon, no food or water. 
Our Captain supplied them bountifully from his 
stores, and gave them their reckoning. 

A number of us stopped at Havana for a three 
days’ conference to apply somewhat the projects 
for cooperative missionary service agreed upon 
at Panama. It was one of seven regional con- 
ferences to be held in various Latin-American 
countries. 

My notes say—‘ We have had a great confer- 
ence, one hundred and twenty in attendance, per- 
fect harmony. I presided almost continuously, yet 
was not over tired, sleep well, and eat anything (1 
am allowed to!) It was a rare occasion.” 

Among the plans for united work in Cuba, the 
one which promised most immediate results was 
one for a common church in Havana for Americans 
of all denominations. I am sorry to say that after 
years of waiting, that fine dream is still in the 
clouds. Denominational hurdles are hard to get 
over. But they are getting lower. Several years 
ago Dr. Robert FE. Speer and I were speaking at 
the centennial of one of the churches in Albany. 
In the course of his address Dr. Speer said: “ Per- 


i gg 


FURTHER WANDERINGS 223 


haps in a hundred years from now there will not be 
any Presbyterians.” 

At Panama, in the course of an address on 
church union, I turned to Dr. Speer, who was pre- 
siding, and said, “A few years ago, Dr. Speer, I 
heard you say, ‘ Perhaps in a hundred years there 
will not be any Presbyterians.’ Do you stand by 
that remark now?” 

His reply was, “ Yes, but now I will shorten the 
time.”’ 

Only a broad vision of the coming of the King- 
dom could inspire such a remark. 





XV 
ORCHARD NOOK 


THE BELLE \OR TAR HILLS, 


Heavy the shadows gird me round, 
And a mist the valley fills— 

But out of the dimness and the doubt 
I lift mine eyes to the hills. 


Benign they rise in their surpliced robes— 
Those purpled priests of God— 

And I firmly walk on the shaded road 
Where falteringly I trod. 


Their fronded brows speak majesty— 
Their breasts with peace aglow— 

Their streams are messages of life 
To vales and fields below. 


The harvests flash along the plain, 
The land with plenty thrills, 
So—thankful to the God of help— 
I lift mine eyes to the hills. 


O, fair and blessed hills of God, 
To you our eyes are lift! 

In you a grateful nation owns 
Heaven's dateless, priceless gift. 


So long ye rise above our plains, 
So long your blessings fall,— 

Our praise ascends to Him who reigns 
In goodness over all. 


XV 
ORCHARD NOOK 


AM sitting on the side veranda. The vines 

have circled far out on the electric wire that 

reaches to the road. A robin full-red-breasted 
is hopping across the lawn, a red squirrel is prac- 
tising his morning gymnastics up and down the 
great maples that shadow the lawn. A song spar- 
row is tuning up on an apple tree, the young leaves 
are out on the trees. All nature is up and doing 
for another riot of color and sound and beauty in 
the on-coming summer. Far down the valley to 
the north rises the stately summit of Mount Ever- 
ett, the southern sentinel of the Berkshire range. 
Over my shoulder comes the prattling of the wood- 
land brook, laughing for very joy of tumbling from 
rock to rock on the way to the valley. Beyond the 
brook deepen the woods in which once with a dis- 
tinguished novelist I was lost—lost within rifle shot 
of the fairest village that slumbers among the New 
England hills. 

This is the twenty-fourth summer that I have 
watched and rejoiced in this sight, have looked 
down across the meadow yellowing in dandelions, 
and up to Haystack mountain, slowly but grandly 


227 


228 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


putting on its robes of green, green of various 
shades in poplar, birch, chestnut and oak. 

I am thinking back over the years. I will even 
recount some of the steps by which the scene and 
I have become such close companions. 

How well I remember the day when, going 
into the office of my friend, Dr. L. Duncan Bulk- 
ley, he inquired, “Where are you spending your 
vacation?” 

My reply was, “ Just now we are spending a few 
weeks in Stockbridge.” | 

His next question was, “ Why don’t you come to 
Norfolk? ”’ 

Now Norfolk had become a somewhat familiar 
name, by the reports of friends who for years had 
been singing its praises, but I had never been there. 
So it came to pass that the next Monday we were 
dining in his home, a mile north of the village. 

After dinner the Doctor said, ““ Now come with 
me. I want to show you something.” 

He took us to this place and said, “ You must 
buy this farm. If you don’t I will have to, and I 
don’t want to, because I have too much land 
already.” 

I had about as much thought of buying a farm as 
I had of adventuring to the moon. But it would do 
no harm to look at a farm, even a small one. So 
we prowled around the place. The house was 
empty, the owner had moved to the village. But, 
like Indians, we peered into the windows. We 


ORCHARD NOOK 229 


wandered to the orchard and the garden, considered 
the barn, in true New England style attached to the 
house, and the ice house, and all the buildings which 
the old time farmer thought necessary to his 
comfort. 

Then the Doctor said, ““ Now we will go to the 
village and get the old lady’s terms.” 

Like lambs to the slaughter we were led on. 
The terms were fascinating. It was a veritable 
bargain counter. But we were unconverted, and 
took the train back to Stockbridge. 

But ever since Adam and E've, human nature has 
been drawn to a garden. It is in the human blood. 
It has been in mine since the early days when I 
used to spend vacations on my father’s farm in 
Wisconsin. So it was not strange that the next day 
we discussed Norfolk and the farm. The more we 
discussed the more excited we became— 

“Yes, it was beautiful.” 

“Did you ever see a lovelier village, nestling 
among lovelier hills?” 

“Never, and that library on the green, beautiful 
token of New England letters.” 

“And that old house, over a hundred years 
old. What fine colonial suggestions. It has 
possibilities.” 

And so on and on; all that day the spell was 
being wrought, with the result that the next morn- 
ing I went to Norfolk and before noon had bought 
the farm. 


230 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


Yes, it is twenty-four years ago, and what 
changes the years have brought. The old house 
stands as it was (and so solidly built, it is likely to 
stand another century), but it has been variously 
changed and enlarged both inside and out, till it is 
much too large for the small family we now are. 
The surroundings have also been changed. ‘The 
picket-fence has been supplanted by a stone wall, 
the proper Connecticut symbol. The well with the 
old-fashioned windlass has become an artesian well, 
bored through a hundred and thirty-five feet of 
rock, supplying water enough for the village, and 
as cold as ice-water, brought into the house by an 
electric motor. On a rock platform, we have 
perched a summer house with a pleasant view of 
the village with its beautiful church spire. Many 
fruit trees have been set out, and give us abundant 
fruit. 

My garden has been enlarged and is a source of 
perpetual delight. Since I have retired from my 
Home Board work I have been able to spend much 
time there. Of course, like all gardeners, even 
experts, I have come on many adversaries. Things 
don’t turn out according to schedule. 

My wife says, “ Faith is that faculty which en- 
ables us to believe that our vegetables will look like 
the pictures in the celebrated gardener’s catalogue.” 
Nevertheless I keep up the everlasting experiment, 
and with results that help us through the winter. 
There are plenty of germs and insect pests to keep 


ORCHARD NOOK 231 


me busy, but only two animal enemies—deer and 
woodchuck. 

The former in the stilly night invade the beans 
and peas, the latter take everything that comes 
along. I would have just and legal cause to shoot 
the deer. But I cannot doit. I did it once on the 
shores of a Wisconsin lake. But those liquid eyes 
have followed and haunted me. So the deer and I 
divide the peas. 

As for the woodchucks, they are beneath con- 
tempt, and remote from pity. For getting rid of 
them, I have tried all the means there are. But it 
is no use. One summer I borrowed a fierce Aire- 
dale dog from a neighbor, and tied him in the mid- 
dle of the garden. He was worse than the wood- 
chuck. His howling kept us awake all night. In 
the morning I cut him loose and sent him home. 
I preferred the woodchuck. 

I have decided to let the inevitable come along, in 
whatever garb it likes. I remember that Adam had 
a snake in his garden. I would rather have wood- 
chucks. He forfeited his title when the snake got 
busy. Anyhow my beasts don’t drive me out. So, 
if necessary, I will let them stay and we will 
divide even. 

But there are other charms than those of the 
garden. Norfolk is set in environs not only of 
beautiful scenery, but of a wonderful history. As 
I glance across the meadow, my eye catches the 
historic and graceful spire of the village church 


232 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


and thoughts circle swiftly about it like doves to its 
belfry. The intellectual life of this country is writ- 
ten on its pulpits. In God’s house across the 
meadow there was a pastor a hundred and fifty 
years ago who, in a ministry of more than half a 
century, not only expounded immortal truths to up- 
lift and cheer the thinking of pioneers who fought 
sternly to subdue these rugged hills, but who, that 
the truth might not fail in coming generations, 
gathered in his study from decade to decade more 
than a hundred young men, and trained them to be 
thinkers. There was no accessible college. The 
preacher was the university. Only a few miles 
across the hills is the county seat. This, however, 
is not its chief fame. It was the home of the 
Beecher family. When did the light of a little 
country village shine so far? And from many a 
country church among these hills the light is still 
shining in lives of those whose inspiration came 
from that source. 

As I thus meditate my mind comes out of the 
past and takes hold of the present. Are the old 
days better than these? Have we declined in moral 
and intellectual tone? As I glance up from the 
page I see the robin again. He has dared the elec- 
tric wire, but he rests uneasily, with furtive side 
glances. His perch is a new thing under the sun. 
But he is getting used to it. 

We, too, are getting used to wires and wheels 
and wings of which the fathers had no conception. 


ORCHARD NOOK 233 


Are we therefore better than they? To be sure the 
spinning wheel is now found only in the antique 
shops. The ox-team is a curiosity at the county 
fair. The stream that laughs behind me is arrested 
in its dash to charge my electric wire, and the hill 
just below me has been sliced to make room for the 
express train. The other day above these hills an 
aeroplane sang its raucous song. 

We certainly are further along. The fathers 
who subdued these hills were slow. Their farming 
implements are kept only in museums. But the 
characters developed here had a grit like the granite 
around them, and the light that shone out from 
their libraries that had only President Eliot’s five- 
foot shelf has illumined all our thinking. 

And now as the sun slants toward the west, I 
have a vision of many years full of varied experi- 
ences, but best of all, of opportunities for service, 
not always well rendered, but in which I have been 
sustained by royal friendships and by continued 
health and strength. 

And as I swing my glass and turn toward the 
future it unrolls in colors of faith and hope. 

With Whittier I can say: 


“IT know not where His islands lift 
Their fronded palms in air, 
I only know I cannot drift 
Beyond His love and care.” 


I rest my pen here. The sun has gone down, the 


234 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


shadows shroud the hills, and a few great stars are 
shining down. So over these hills forever the great 
souls, who here sternly held their lives to the best 
and noblest things, shine down upon me—the very 
constellations of the Lord. 


XVI 


A FEW OF THE EIGHTIETH BIRTHDAY 
LETTERS 


WAITING. 


I stand tn the deepening shadow rim 
Of the mountains left and right. 

The sea before lies still and dim— 
O’er-swept by a fading light. 


I camp. The time to halt has come. 
O’er the breadth of Tomorrow's sea, 
There is no road to walk upon— 
And I wait, O, Lord, for Thee! 


But Thine the olden signal yet, 
The rod in Thy prophet’s hand, 
That waved the way of Thy holy will, 
And showed Thy strong command. 


I wait. Though the hills be yet more dim, 
And more ominous the sea, 

The open path will come to him 
Who meekly waits for Thee. 


XVI 


A FEW OF THE EIGHTIETH BIRTHDAY 
LETTERS 


Alaska Steamship Company. 
July 15th, 1919. 
My DEAR Dr. THOMPSON: 


I have been expecting to write you a birthday letter 
in Nome during our week of waiting there for the U. 
S. Cutter Bear to take us to Pt. Barrow. But the 
captain of the cutter wirelessed us an hour ago that 
he would start immediately on the arrival of our ship 
at Nome for a cruise around the end of Siberia before 
starting for Barrow, and invited us to go along, which 
we at once agreed to do. So we may not have a wait 
in Nome on our northward journey, and in order to 
be sure my greeting will reach you by August 18th, I 
am scratching it off as we are entering what would be 
the Nome harbor, if it had such a thing. The fog is 
so dense nobody knows where we are, except the 
water is getting shallower and the boat is creeping 
along hoping it will hit what is called the “ Nome 
Roadstead ” somehow. ahs 

The deepest and biggest congratulations of my 
heart are yours, also the devoutest prayers for many 
more anniversaries with increasing joy to everyone of 
them. You have lived a great day, and deserve a 
great evening to it. Your mark is all over this vast 
empire up here, as well as all over the states below us, 
and no man can rub it out. 

God bless you and add to your days and your 


237 


238 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


strength. Sarah joins me in congratulations and best 
wishes. 
Sincerely, with warm remembrances to Mrs. and 
Miss ‘Thompson, 
Joun A. Margulis. 


P. S. Am not sure of your summer address, I only 
know it is where your potato patch is, so am sending 
this to 156 Fifth Avenue. 


Pine Crest, 
Keene Valley, N. Y. 


Aug. 15th, 1919. 
My DEAR Docror: 


Greetings! Affection! Admiration! Congratula- 
tions upon four-score years of extraordinary useful- 
ness and honor. 

We never had a better Secretary in the Home 
Board. Your administration was the high-water 
mark of the Board’s usefulness, and you have retired 
with the intense affection of all the Board and the 
gratitude of the entire Church for the wisdom, the 
splendid energy, the entire and unprecedented success 
of your administration. Blessings upon you, dear 
man, many added years of happiness, and the warm 
consciousness of the devotion of your friends. 

Ever most cordially, 
WILTON MERLE-SMITH. 


The Board of Home Missions, 
New York. 


Aug. 15, 1919. 
My DEARLY BELOVED: 


Hail and all good wishes! Your eightieth birthday 
calls forth heartiest congratulations, seeing it is 


EIGHTIETH BIRTHDAY LETTERS 239 


marked by perfect health of body and mind, and with 
your most lovable graces of character and disposition 
unimpaired. Ready for service, too, although if any 
man has fully earned entire freedom from care and 
responsibility, you are that man. For twenty-one 
years we have known and loved each other, and my 
admiration and affection have deepened and strength- 
ened every passing year. Take good care of yourself, 
for you are my dearest friend, and as long as I am 
permitted to hold earthly converse I want you to be 
within reach. 

Affectionate greetings to Mrs. Thompson and all 
your dear ones from both Mrs. Dixon, and your de- 
voted friend, for Time and Eternity, 

Joun Dixon. 


The Board of Home Missions, 
St. Louts. 
August 14th, 1919. 
My DEAR Dr. THOMPSON : 


The lives of most men are measured by their years 
—others by the good deeds they have done. It is the 
rare good fortune of only a few to have their lives 
measured by both. Those of us in the St. Louis office 
desire at this time to extend to you our congratula- 
tions on your eightieth birthday, measured by years, 
and on your four-hundredth, measured by the good 
you have done. 

Wishing you many happy returns of the day, we 
are, as ever, 

Faithfully yours, 
B. P. FULLERTON. 
ANDREW J. MONTGOMERY. 
Mary K,. Yost. 


240 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


808 West End Ave., New York. 
Aug. 16, 1919. 
My bDEAR Dr. THOMPSON: 

A report has reached me that on the 18th of this 
month you are to celebrate your eightieth birthday. 
Of course I regard this report as an exaggeration. 
Somebody’s arithmetic has gone wrong, or a defective 
calendar has been used. It gives, however, a cheerful 
opportunity for your friends to express their personal 
regard for you, and their conviction that the celebra- 
tion should be deferred for at least ten years. 

A great number of those in all parts of the country 
who know and love you, should have an opportunity 
to send their warm congratulations. You have long 
been known as one of the most prominent leaders in 
the work of Home Missions in America. The 
churches of every denomination have gladly recog- 
nized your service in this great cause. You have ad- 
vocated its claims from the pulpit and platform with 
unceasing earnestness. Your writings on all phases 
of the subject have made a record of varied informa- 
tion and wise counsel that will be an invaluable treas- 
ury to workers in the same field. Your name will be 
inscribed on a tablet more lasting than anything made 
of brass. 

I cannot tell you how constantly I have appreciated 
my long association with you on the Board of Home 
Missions,—it is one of the most highly prized memo- 
ries of my life. I believe you will yet continue to add 
rich contributions to the cause so dear to your heart, 
and I pray that you may be spared to rejoice in seeing 
the ripe fruits of your long labors. 

With sincerest congratulations, 

Your affectionate friend, 
D. Stuart Donpce. 


EIGHTIETH BIRTHDAY LETTERS 241 


47 University Place, New York. 
My DEAR YOUNG OCTOGENARIAN FRIEND: 

A fellow pilgrim only four years behind you in the 
march cries ‘‘ All hail to thee!” Preacher, poet, 
potato-grower and prince of good fellows, hail to 
thee! It is a joy to know that you have so many of 
the pleasures of youth, while lacking naught “ that 
which should accompany old age, as honor, love, 
obedience, troops of friends.” Few men have such 
a retrospect as yours. May the prospect brighten, 
“serene and lovely as a Lapland night.” 

The prayer of your friend, 
GEORGE ALEXANDER. 


Camp Diamond, Colebrook, N. H. 
August 13th, 1919. 
My DEAR UNCLE CHARLIE: 

I wish you every blessing on your eightieth birth- 
day. It has been a blessing to know you all these past 
years—not the whole eighty, but my part of them— 
and I rejoice in all that you have been and done in 
Christ’s church and Christ’s cause. And we are 
specially grateful for the strength and wisdom and 
courage of this last and ripest year. May they long 
continue, and may God’s good grace make each one 
richer and more fruitful than any that have gone 
before. 

Ever affectionately your friend, 
Ropert E, SPEER. 


156 Fefth Avenue, New York. 


August 11th, 1919. 
My DEAR Dr. THOMPSON: 
I am clearing my desk to leave for a short vacation 


242 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


at Northfield, but before I go I want to send you a 
message of hearty congratulations and good wishes 
on your eightieth birthday, which I understand will be 
the eighteenth of this month. You know, I am sure, 
how deep is my personal affection for you, my dear 
brother. I well remember the day we first met in Dr. 
Gray’s office in Chicago. Ever since I have followed 
your career with keen interest and with growing ad- 
miration for the breadth of your Christian statesman- 
ship, and the splendid efficiency with which you have 
discharged the great responsibilities which the Church 
has laid upon you. May our Father in Heaven richly 
bless you during the coming days, and crowd them 
with evidence of His love. 

I am sure that Mrs. Brown would wish to join me 
in this message if she were here, and in warm remem- 
brance to Mrs. Thompson. 

Affectionately yours, 
ARTHUR J. BROWN. 


158 Féfth Avenue, New York. 
Aug. 17, 1919. 
My DEAR Dr. THOMPSON: 


Let me join with others who will be greeting you 
on this eightieth anniversary. For there must indeed 
be a goodly company who will be with you in spirit if 
they know of the day. What a splendid service has 
been yours to our country, and to the Church, and 
what a record to look back upon! The reflection of 
the years past will but add to the glory of the years 
to come, making the path bright and brighter until 
the Perfect Day. 

May you be spared to us yet many years. Eighty 
is not necessarily old. We are only growing old. 


EIGHTIETH BIRTHDAY LETTERS 243 


Our good friend Mr. Aikman sets us a good exam- 
ple, active and at his desk almost daily at ninety-one, 
—so there is still work for us all, and great blessing 
in work! May your blessings be multiplied. 
With warmest greetings, congratulations, and 
goodwill. 
Sincerely, 


FLEMING H. REVELL, 


The Continent, New York City. 
August 15th, 1919. 
My DEAR Dr. THOMPSON: 


I hear with great satisfaction that Monday will 
bring around your eightieth birthday. Orthodox as 
you are, I am sure you are happy—at least all your 
friends are happy for you—that you can come to this 
distinguished anniversary a living disproof of what 
the Psalmist said about fourscore years signifying 
labor and sorrow. In your case the pride of four- 
score years is not only physical strength and bodily 
health, but a clear eye, a cheery heart, and a sound 
thinking apparatus to which all of us turn confidently 
for good counsel. 

To defy age as you have is certainly an achieve- 
ment worthy to be set beside all the other big things 
that force, determination and God’s grace have en- 
abled you to accomplish in your busy years. And I 
want you to count me among the friends who are 
depending on you to keep on living thus wholesomely 
and vigorously for many years yet, for certainly we 
all of us need you. 

With warm, affectionate regards, 


NoiaANn R. BEs‘. 


24:4 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


Union Theological Seminary, 
Broadway at 120th St., New York. 


West Falmouth, Mass., 
August 17, 1919. 


Dear Dr. THOMPSON: 


To my great astonishment I have learned from 
George Webster that you celebrate tomorrow your 
eightieth birthday, and I hasten with admiration and 
amaze to send you my greetings. To tell the truth I 
think Webster has made a mistake, and I am simply 
betraying my innocence in imagining, you have at- 
tained so venerable a dignity, but I suppose I must 
take his word for it, and throw the responsibility 
for undue gullibility upon him. If he is right, where 
have you put this big bundle of years? Certainly you 
are not carrying it either on your head or on your 
shoulders, so far as anyone can see. And your wis- 
dom—sound and seasoned as I have always recog- 
nized it to be—I had thought was the accumulation of 
seventy rather than of eighty years! It is a wonder- 
ful thing thus to have deceived your juniors, and to 
have tempted them to think of you as a brother in- 
stead of a father in Israel. I confess that I have 
fallen before the temptation, but in ignorance I did it. 
But I am not repentant, and with your indulgence I 
shall go on as I have; for, after all, it is only a mat- 
ter of words, and your “ eighty ” is but as the “ sev- 
enty ” of other and lesser men, and seventy doesn’t 
seem so far away to some of us younger chaps! 

You have, of course, my warmest and most affec- 
tionate regards, and my wishes for many more fruit- 
ful and youthful years such as you have learned the 


EIGHTIETH BIRTHDAY LETTERS 245 


secret of. May we all in Chi Alpha long enjoy the 
delight of your fellowship! 
Faithfully and fraternally yours, 
ArtTHUR C, McGIFFERT. 


Union Theological Seminary, 
Broadway at 120th St., New York. 
Silver Bay, N.Y., 
Aug. 16th, 1919. 


Dear BrotHER THOMPSON: 


Hail to our octogenarian brother in Christ! Chi 
Alpha adds to its glory day after tomorrow, and we 
salute our latest addition to the number of those who 
have exceeded by a half score the three-score years 
and ten allotted of old to the span of man’s life. 

But what I especially rejoice in is the quality of 
life and friendship, not merely in its protraction ac- 
cording to the annual calendar. Most hearty admira- 
tion and salutations to you, who continue to possess 
so much of the vitality of youth, tempered with the 
wisdom and mellowness of age! You have delighted 
and inspired me as I have met you from week to week 
of a Saturday afternoon at our fraternal gatherings, 
and too as I have come across your tracks otherwise. 
For example, I see in the morning’s paper that you 
are to preach in the metropolis tomorrow. A grand 
old man retaining the secret of youth! I desire to 
send my heartiest greetings to you for the day after 
tomorrow, when you will be demonstrating to your 
many friends the power and the joy of a sane, whole- 
some life, devoted in the spirit of Christ to the service 
of the Kingdom, ever renewing its vitality as you pass 
along life’s broad highway. 

You are one of the few of our number who have 


246 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


been able to receive Chi Alpha into the hospitality of 
your home, a privilege which I have often recalled 
with special appreciation. Accordingly I desire to 
send salutations to your noble helpmeet, who has been 
enabling you to press on with your unwonted vigor. 
edie and faithfully, 
Ropert E. HuMe. 


Union Theological Seminary, 
Broadway at 120th St., New York. 


Sea Girt, N. J., 
August 13, 1919. 
DEAR BrRoTHER LEMUEL: 


And so you are about to pass your eightieth anni- 
versary! I am lagging fifteen years behind you. I 
only hope if I ever catch up to you that I shall be as 
well off mentally, physically, materially, socially, re- 
trospectively and prospectively as you are, which 
would be going some! 

Blessings on your sandy head! (What luck, not 
even hoary !) 

Mrs. Fagnani joins me in all this, and Mrs. Thomp- 
son is remembered, too. 

Ever thine, 
CHares P, FacNnani. 


You will be getting a cloud of these witnesses 
to your work and belovedness. Do not bother to 
acknowledge this. — 


Battle Creek, Michigan. 
August 16th, 1919. 
DEAR Dr. THOMPSON: 
With your other brothers in Chi Alpha, and I have 


EIGHTIETH BIRTHDAY LETTERS 247 


no doubt with a host of other friends, I send you my 
congratulations and best wishes for your birthday. 
I have no doubt it will be a day of devout thanksgiv- 
ing for the long and useful career which has been 
vouchsafed you. Aside from the blessings of health 
and long life you have had opportunities of serving 
God and your fellow-men such as come to few. That 
you have improved these opportunities will be the evi- 
dence of those who know you best. 

May the coming years be filled with good,—con- 
tinued activity, the love of friends, congenial com- 
panionship with men of like minds and that firm faith 
which has guided you so far. 

Mrs. Smith joins me in messages of congratulation 
and in cordial greetings to Mrs. Thompson and 
yourself, 


Faithfully your friend, 
HENRY PRESERVED SMITH. 


Litchfield, Conn., August 16th, 1919. 
DEAR Dr. THOMPSON: 


All hail! Monarch of the Norfolk wilds, Nestor of 
the Prohibition Bar of the New York Presbytery, the 
beloved of friends, the statesman of the church, the 
eloquent preacher, all hail on your birthday! You 
are the youngest old man I ever met. Please pass the 
prescription down the line. 

It is my joy to extend these congratulations to you, 
and to let memory open its doors and bring back my 
first acquaintance with you away back in 1879. Dear 
me, forty years ago! You have been privileged to do 
a glorious work. Your name is writ large upon the 


248 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


history of the church. You have had the vision for 
the years, and you have lived to see its realization. 


May you come to your 
“old age serene and bright, 
And lovely as the Lapland night.” 
Sincerely, 
H. G. MENDENHALL. 


Ausable Club, 
Essex County, N.Y. 


August 14th, 1919. 
My DEAR Dr. THOMPSON: 


May I join your many friends in congratulating you 
on your eightieth birthday, and on the accomplish- 
ments on which you can look in retrospect? 

I come across your footsteps in the church where 
you served, and where there are still families who 
owe you much. I know more of what you meant to 
the whole church through your superb leadership of 
the Home Board, broad, sane, courageous, eminently 
Christian. I can speak from personal gratitude of the 
constant help you are to us in Chi Alpha, always 
open-minded, usually far ahead of the procession in 
your thought and feeling, and with undaunted faith 
holding fast the vision of the Kingdom of God. 

May your life be prolonged for our sake, and your 
strength kept vigorous. We love you, and that is not 
often felt in the come-and-go contacts of New York 
life. We thank God for what you have done, and 
for what you are. 


Affectionately yours, 
Henry SLOANE COFFIN. 


EIGHTIETH BIRTHDAY LETTERS 249 


Union Theological Seminary, 
Broadway at 120th St., New York. 
Orleans, Vt., 
Aug. 18th, 1919. 
Dear Dr. THOMPSON: 


Let me add my youthful voice to the chorus of con- 
gratulations on your eightieth birthday. I shall be 
forty-five in October, but eighty, which I aspire to 
reach, looks a long way ahead. You have seen a 
great deal in your eighty years, 1839-1919, the rapid 
spread of railroads, national expansion (Texas and 
all the rest), the Civil War, transcontinental railways, 
and all the rest that I have seen as well as you. You 
have not been merely a spectator, but have taken your 
part in the big movements of your time, as a writer, 
preacher and administrator. You are one of Amer- 
ica’s elder statesmen, and we boys who only rank 
forty-four plus in the scale of one hundred we both 
hope to reach, recognize your preeminence, rejoice in 
your councils, and love to be in your company. 

Cordially yours, 
Wo. W. RocKwELL. 


Constableville, Lewis County, N.Y. 
DEAR BROTHER IN CHI ALPHA: 


Our ever watchful secretary informs me that you 
are to pass the eightieth milestone in your journey on 
Monday, August 18th. It gives me great pleasure to 
send you brotherly greetings on this occasion, and_ 
also to thank God for keeping you so alive and well 
and useful and happy, all these years. As I have gone 
eight birthdays ahead of you on May 28th last, I may 
send you a word of advice. Keep up your poetic 
talent. It is a great help in a tight place now and 


250 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


then. Trust your old friends. ‘They love you and 
know your virtues and solid worth. Cling to Chi 
Alpha. It is a clever and helpful crowd. Keep on 
living as long as you can. 
Your loving old friend, 
CHARLES AUGUSTUS STODDARD. 


Newark, N. J. 
September 23d, 1919. 
My DEAR Dr. THOMPSON: 


I write to congratulate you upon your eightieth 
birthday which I heard you had celebrated recently. 
I was indeed surprised that you had reached that age, 
for you look easily ten years younger, and I never 
dreamed that one of your energy and efficiency could 
be fourscore years. You are indeed worthy of very 
much more than any words of all your friends com- 
bined can bestow. What a splendid useful life you 
have lived! It is an example to us all. You have 
filled the years with good deeds and_ beneficent 
influences. 

Your diversity of gifts has rounded out your life 
extraordinarily. How many lives combine the min- 
istry and administrative service together with history- 
writing and poetry? You are indeed to be envied and 
loved for all you are, and for all you have so nobly 
achieved. May your great good life go on for years 
to come. 

I think of you this evening as connected in many 
ways with my own life very tenderly and affection- 
ately. 

I am sure you must realize how we of the Board 
remember and deeply appreciate all you have been to 
us—first as a director and then as a secretary. How 
often we have been proud of you as you have headed 


EIGHTIETH BIRTHDAY LETTERS 251 


our cause before Assemblies, and have graced our 
Board throughout the Church all over our country. 
Your literary work will live on, and your ministry 
will live on year after year. You have been a blessing 
and an inspiration to us all. God bless you always. 
Affectionately your friend, 
LyMAN WHITNEY ALLEN. 


Unson National Bank of Pasadena, California. 
8/11/19. 
DEAR FRIEND: 

August 18th will soon be here! A big day for you, 
and for your friends, too. Eighty! That’s fine. Just 
getting your second wind for a good pull up the hill, 
—not down. 

Honestly, you ought to be a happy man as you look 
over your shoulder and back over the wonderful years 
of service. There is no other word adequate—won- 
derful it is! 

I am so glad to have had those four years with you, 
side and side,—it was good for me,—you were so pa- 
tient and thoughtful, and always helpful. 

We want you to have many more years,—and you 
will. 

Yours affectionately, 
BruIN (JOHN WILLIS BAER). 


The National Council of the Congregational Churches 
of the United States. 
14 Beacon Street, Boston, Mass. 


Sunapee, N. H., Aug. 16, 1919. 
My Dear Man: 


They tell me you have arrived at a notable birth- 
day. I have difficulty in believing it. None the less 


252 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


here are my affectionate congratulations. On the long 
pathway of sunshine and shadow over which you 
have passed it has been yours to share an abundant 
degree of the fulness of living. May the days ahead 
be abundant in the gracious gifts of God. May you 
be sheltered from the strokes of trial, and dwell in 
peace under His shadow. 

I hope to move to New York in November, and 
sometimes to have a sight of you. 

Ever affectionately yours, 
HuBeErt C. HERRING. 


MINUTE ADOPTED. BY THE PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF 
ForEIGN Missions, Aucust 13TH, 1919. 


The Board, having learned that on August 18th the 
Rev. Charles L. Thompson, D.D., LL.D., Secretary 
Emeritus of the Board of Home Missions, will cele- 
brate his eightieth birthday, wishes to express to 
Dr. Thompson its fraternal, cordial and heartfelt 
greetings. 

The Board, while recording its appreciation of the 
great debt which the whole church owes to Dr. 
Thompson for his efficient services for the cause of 
Home Missions, also gladly bears witness to the 
breadth of vision, the catholicity of spirit, and the 
largeness of purpose, which have enabled him to be 
of signal service to the cause of our common human- 
ity throughout the whole world. 

The Board, in company with hosts of his friends, 
wishes Dr. Thompson all the blessings that accom- 
pany a ripe old age, “honor, love, obedience, troops 
of friends ” and “ the blessing of Jehovah which mak- 
eth rich and he addeth no sorrow therewith.” 

| GrorcE ALEXANDER, President. 

A. W. Hasty, Secretary. 


XVII 
A FEW GENERAL LETTERS 


RETROSPECT. 


I stood where the gold of the morning 
Flashed over the eastern sea; 

And I said, “ How fair is the promise 
Of the dawn on flower and tree.” 


I stood where a garden of poppies 
Reflected the sun in the West; 

And I said, “ The gold of the evening 
Shines farthest—and fairest—and best.” 


XVII 
A FEW GENERAL LETTERS 


Executive Mansion, 
Washington. 


June 12th, 1888. 
Rev. C. L. THomeson, D.D. 
Dear Sir: 


I send you, with this, a modified order in that mat- 
ter of teaching in the Indian Schools. It has been 
delayed a little by the absence of the Commissioner 
of Indian Affairs, to whom I thought it but right that 
it should be submitted before promulgation. Copies 
will be at once sent to all parties charged with its 
execution. 

You will see that the order is almost precisely 
copied from the proposition left with me by the 
committee. 

I wish you would either send a copy to Dr. Her- 
rick or tell me where to address him. I am in doubt 
whether the memorandum of his address which I 
have is correct or not. 

Hoping that the conclusion reached as embodied in 
the paper herewith sent will settle this troublesome 
question, and pleased that I have been able to meet the 
views of the committee with whom you acted, I am, 

Yours very truly, 
GROVER CLEVELAND. 


Please let me hear from you.—G. C. 
ead 


256 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


The White House, 
Washington. 
Oyster Bay, N. Y., 
August 1, 1906. 
My DEAR Dr. THOMPSON: 

I thank you heartily, and let me say again how I en- 
joyed your sermon, and how I enjoyed having you 
here at lunch with me. 

Sincerely yours, 
THEODORE ROOSEVELT. 


The White House, 
Washington. 
May 6, 1913. 
My DEAR Dr. THOMPSON: 

Thank you very much for your letter of May 3rd, 
in regard to the appointment of a Commissioner of 
Indian Affairs. I have noted it carefully, and shall 
give earnest consideration to the suggestions which 
you were good enough to make. 

Cordially and sincerely yours, 
Wooprow WILSON. 


New York, Feb. 12th, 1870. 
Rev. C. L. THompson, 
Dear Sir: 

If you regard the extract from the second volume 
of my translation of the “ Iliad” previous to its pub- 
lication, as a contribution, you may put me down as 
an occasional contributor. In any other point of view 
I could not, with so many things claiming my atten- 
tion, and at my advanced age, when the “ grasshop- 
per ” begins to ‘be a burden ” allow myself to be re- 





A FEW GENERAL LETTERS 257 


garded as a contributor, since it is not likely that I 
could find time to write anything for your periodical. 
I can only congratulate you on the promise given by 
its early numbers. 
I am, sir, truly yours, 
Wo. CuLLEN Bryant. 


Brooklyn, Jan. 24, 1902. 
BELOVED BROTHER THOMPSON: 

I was sorry to miss seeing you at the Board rooms 
yesterday. I left a list of some of the papers that 
have published your splendid poem [‘‘ Our Captain” |. 

Last evening at the grand public dinner given to 
Park Commissioner Brower, at the Montauk Club, 
Hon. Oscar S. Straus was one of the speakers. Hon. 
Mr. Hendrix, President of the Bank of Commerce, 
presided and introduced me as one of the speakers. 
Before doing so he read your fine poem, and there was 
loud applause through the large dining hall. 

Many people tell me that they have cut it out from 
the papers for preservation. You never made a 
greater poetical hit in all your long, blessed life. 

With cordial salutations to the comely wife, who is 
proud of her husband. 

Yours evermore to the core, 
THEODORE L,, CUYLER. 


176 Oxford St., Brooklyn, Nov. 6th, 1903. 
BROTHER BELOVED: 

I had hoped to get over to Chi Alpha tomorrow 
evening, and mainly that I might get a grip of your 
right hand. But a cold shuts me in, and I cannot 
venture on the long journey. 

A few days ago my bright daughter, Mrs. Dr. 
Cheesman, of Auburn, sent me a copy of your truly 


258 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


magnificent missionary address at Los Angeles, which 
had been distributed in the pews of their church. I 
gladly informed her that I had already enjoyed the 
most powerful oration on Home Missions ever deliv- 
ered in this country. Happy the man who finds his 
right place. 

My eighty-third birthday will soon heave in sight, 
but I rejoiced on last Sabbath afternoon to address a 
great meeting of young men at an evangelistic service 
in the Majestic Theatre. I envy you younger breth- 
ren who have the unspeakable privilege of sounding 
the gospel bugle every Sunday. 

As to the much advertised “new evangelism,” I 
doubt whether it will be a great improvement on the 
methods and the messages of one Paul, or one Wes- 
ley, or one Spurgeon, or even one Moody (whom 
Henry Drummond pronounced the most “ extraordi- 
nary human being he had ever known”). After all 
the great want is new fire put into old truths. 

Hoping to be with Chi Alpha at the approaching 
anniversary meeting, and with love unfeigned and un- 
failing to them and to your own dear self, I remain, 

Yours to the core, 
THEODORE L. CUYLER. 
P. S. My daughter has “Our Captain” framed on 
her parlor wall. 


Our CAPTAIN. 


TO THEODORE LEDYARD CUYLER—READ AT A CELEBRA- 
TION OF HIS EIGHTIETH ANNIVERSARY. 


Fill—fill up your glasses—with Croton! 
Fill full to the brim I say, 

For the dearest old boy among us, 
Who is ten times eight to-day. 


A FEW GENERAL LETTERS 


It is three times three and a tiger— 
It is hand to your caps, Oh, men! 

For our Captain of Captains rejoices 
In his counting of eight times ten. 


Foot square on the bridge, and gripping 
As steady as fate the wheel, 

He has taken the storms to his forehead— 
And cheered in the tempest’s reel. 


He has seen the green sea monsters 
Go writhing down the gale,— 
But never a hand to slacken, 
And never a heart to fail. 


So it’s—Ho! to our Captain dauntless, 
Trumpet-tongued and eagle-eyed, 

With the spray of the voyage behind him, 
And the Pilot by his side. 


Together they sail into sunset— 
Slow down for the harbor bell, 

For the flash of the port, and the message 
“ Well done ”—It is well—It is well. 


So its three times three and a tiger! 
Breathe deep for the man we love. 
His heart is the heart of a lion, 
His soul is the soul of a dove. 


It is—Ho! to the Captain we honor. 
Salute we the man and the day. 

‘On his brow are the snows of December, 
In his heart are the bird-songs of May. 


259 


260 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


Columbus, Ohio, March 27, 1898. 
My Dear Dr. THOMPSON: 


I have before me, as I lie here, the program for 
your great Presbyterian Day, and will follow the 
discussions from hour to hour until the day is over. 
Yours is primarily a process of education, and, much 
as has been done, the Church, its ministers and mem- 
bers, still need a world of instruction—such a review 
as shall help them to see what a continental task is 
before us, and what a continental opportunity—one 
as vast, interesting, solemn and full of promise as 
Christ ever offered to any of His churches since the 
apostolic century. So turn your large flash light over 
the entire field. Let the Church see the deep and 
pitiful city problems, the outlying rural needs, the 
mountain destitution, the broad plains beyond the 
Mississippi, and the unsanctified Pacific Coast. Show 
it the Negro, the Indian, the horde of European im- 
migration, the claims of the Islanders and the Asiatic 
races. Pour in the light: let there be no dark corner 
unillustrated. And God bless you and all your associ- 
ates, your strong Board and the whole Church in the 
gigantic task of Christianizing this elect continent in 
the interests of a converted world. But “ Good-bye!” 

Your friend for long years and forever, 

E.. D. Morris. 


The Evangelical Alliance for the United States of 
America, New York City. 
Jan. 27th, 1898. 
My DEAR FRIEND: 
When I saw the statement concerning you in the 
Morning Tribune, I said to myself, “ The mistake of 
Dr. Thompson’s life was in not being twins.” You 


A FEW GENERAL LETTERS 261 


are needed in both places. May the Lord bless you 
whether you stay or go. 
As always, your brother, 
JosIAH STRONG. 


The Board of Foreign Missions of the Presbyterian 
Church in the U.S. A. 
156 Fifth Avenue, New York, 
June 19, 1911. 
My DEAR Dr. THOMPSON: 

Just a line to congratulate you on the high honor 
which was conferred by dear Old Princeton upon 
you. I have tried to get down to see you, but have 
failed. I will endeavor to bring this by word of 
mouth, but lest I forget it I put in in imperishable or 
perishable type. 

You have well earned the honor. It is time that 
Princeton recognized, a little more fully than she has 
done in recent years, the work of men in the ministry 
both at home and abroad. 

I wish you would suggest a good man to them for 
President, they seem all at sea in this matter. 

With most cordial greetings believe me to be, 

Sincerely yours, 
A. W. HALsEyY. 


Presbyterian Board of Publication and Sabbath 
School Work. 
December 26th, 1912. 
My DEAR HERO, ORATOR, PROPHET, POET: 

May the benediction of every heart you have 
helped, quickened, cheered bring you all the fullness 
of divine blessing. 

How sweet the song of Isaiah as chanted by you, 
how victorious ! 


262 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


Yes, you are the poet of intrepidity. I do thank 
you for the music of your Christmas song. 
With appreciation and affection, 
Yours, 
JaMEs A. WorDEN. 


Lincoln, Nebraska, August 27, 1923. 
DEAR CHARLIE: 

Thanks for your letter, and many, many good 
wishes for your welfare—you are rather young yet, 
but you have a chance to get where Iam. Yes, I was 
88 yesterday. I preached at the Westminster Church. 
The arrangements were made before they knew of 
_my birthday. I have been preaching all summer with 
few exceptions. : 

You said a true thing when you said that time flies. 
Flying machines don’t go so fast. When you and I 
were kids along the Wisconsin if I had told you that 
in about eighty years you would be lying off on your 
farm in Connecticut, and I would be raising cucum- 
bers in the great American desert, in a region then 
unnamed, to be called Nebraska, you would have 
called me a dreamer. It does get hot here every sum- 
mer. For weeks 90° and 100°, then for fun 110°, 
113°. That gets to be too much if kept up for a week 
or two. 

I would like to investigate your farm. I hope we 
may meet again on earth, and I have a strong hope 
and belief that we shall have a better meeting. Think 
of the old friends gone on. As I grow older I have 
. fewer near friends. They are just as good, but not 
just the same. 

Just interrupted to marry a couple. 

Many regards to all of you. 

Your old boy-friend, 
Joun H. CarPENTER. 


A FEW GENERAL LETTERS 263 


East Orange, N. J., 
March 14th, 1924. 
My DEAR Op PAL: 


I appreciate your thoughtfulness in writing me 
while on your back. But I notice that your soul 
stands up on both feet with a big heart well-balanced 
at the center. I seldom get to New York nowadays. 
When my aeroplane arranges a landing in your neigh- 
borhood I will drop onto your roof. 

Tomorrow will be my eighty-third birthday. I am 
given to reminiscing, as you know. Just think of it,— 
about twenty-four such lives as you and I have had 
would take us back to the time of Christ! Fifty to 
Tutankhamen’s time—ancestors! And one hundred 
to our hairy-skinned forebears of the old Stone Age! 
I have just been reading over the second chapter of 
Genesis. What savages Adam and Eve were! No 
clothes, not even loin-cloths. No speech, perhaps, ex- 
cept of the “ Bow-Wow ” sort,—no conscience, only 
fear of consequences. No spiritual conceptions,— 
followed the snake’s advice rather than that of The 
Life “ walking in the Garden.” Didn’t know enough 
to avoid fetishism until it was beaten out of them by 
calamities. Well, I am grateful for having lived some 
millenniums after such ancestors. You and I haven’t 
been “sich creatures,” bad as we may have been. 
We've lived in good times, for all that there were 
some cloudy days. Your life has been among moral 
heroes the best of the species; so has mine, although 
I have sat more on the bleachers, while you have 
fought on the gridiron. 

You have been much to me. I often recall the days 
when you helped me mightily as my parishioner. 
There are two kinds of good men,—the one, those 
who will do the helpful thing if you can persuade 
their judgment and convince their conscience, and stir 


264 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


their emotion. The other sort are those who don’t 
wait for such appeals, but whenever they see a chance 
of being helpful, just pitch in and do it. You are of 
this latter sort. I never felt very lonely, because I 
knew that you and a few other members of Gideon’s 
Band were down at the water’s edge moistening their 
tongues, and ready for a dash. 

The trouble with this age is that there are so few 
ready-minded. Everybody is waiting for something 
to turn up, and not willing to turn it up. Say! Let’s 
cast our skins, and crawl into the new generation as 
youngsters. I wonder if St. Peter will not let us out 
0’ nights, just to go down into editorial rooms and jog 
the newspapers, or to buzz at the ears of congressmen 
and tell them to think of coming events, or to steer 
the pens of preachers into the line of experiential 
religion, or to box the ears of our theological dis- 
putants and make them stop their wood-pussying 
when the world’s afire. 

Would you like to get back into the melee? I 
sometimes get mad, and say I wish I were in the 
thick of the fight. Then I say, “ No, if I were young 
again, I’d take a couple of years in the wilderness 
making up my mind about the real issue, then go in.” 
After all, it is a comfort to sit still and watch the 
battle until one can see the drift of the campaign the 
Lord is directing. Big events are ahead, and immi- 
nent, too. I am inclined to believe in a new Reforma- 
tion period. 

But enough of such ravelled stuff. The Lord bless 
you and keep you, my dear fellow! And I know 
He will. Love to the Missus, and Sydney. 

, Affectionately as of old, 
JameEs M. LupLow. 


XVIII 
APPRECIATIONS 


A COMRADE. 


TO REV. JOHN DIXON, D.D., AFTER HE HAD RETIRED 
FROM THE BOARD. 


We have walked the decks together, dear John, 
In stormy and starry weather, dear John, 

When she walked on an even keel; 
And again when the deck was tipping, dear John, 
Our footsteps sometimes slipping, dear John, 

In the surge of the tempest’s reel. 


We stood at the stern of the ship, dear John, 
When western winds had their grip, dear J ohn, 
And we saw our track was white. 
The good old boat was racing, dear John, 
A new day she was facing, dear John, 
In her phosphorescent light. 


As we counted the knots she made, dear John, 
Were we not unafraid, dear John, 
As she tunsted against the gale. 
We steadily kept one eye, dear John, 
On the sleepy stars in the sky, dear John, 
And ran out an extra sail. 


But now at the bow we stand, dear John, 

In a look for a far-of land, dear John, 
Another hand holds the wheel. 

It is carefree satlors we are, dear John, 

Our eyes to the evening star, dear John, 
Let the old boat rock and reel. 


When the hawsers grind and strain, dear John, 
When on decks there is panic and pain, dear John, 
We very well know what ts done, 
’Tis because they are tying together, dear John, 
For pleasant or stormy weather, dear John, 
Four ships to sail as one! 


Ah, well! let them bump along, dear John, 
As we watch for the evening star: 
As we wait for the slow down bell, dear John, 
And the Master’s call “It ts well,’ dear John, 
And the lights of the harbor bar. 


We stand at the bow together, dear John, 

Arm in arm through the brightening weather, dear John, 
On board the Pilot has come. 

What light on the nearing lands? dear John, 

’Tis the house not made with hands, dear John, 
Our good ship is nearing home. 


XVIII 
APPRECIATIONS 


(INCORPORATED IN THIS VOLUME At THE SUGGESTION 
OF FRIENDS ) 


RECOGNITION OF Dr. THompson’s 251TH ANNI- 
VERSARY WITH THE BOARD. 


The Chairman called the attention of the Board to 
the fact that Dr. Charles L. Thompson began his 
service as General Secretary of the Board twenty-five 
years ago. Dr. Keigwin presented a resolution which 
was adopted, following remarks participated in by 
members of the Board and Staff, and during which 
the Board heard with great pleasure from Rev. John 
Dixon, D.D., and from Dr. Thompson. The resolu- 
tion is as follows: 

“In view of the fact that this annual meeting marks 
the twenty-fifth anniversary of the entrance of Rev. 
Charles. Thompson, D.D.,, LL.D.,..on “his duties..as 
General Secretary, which took place March 1, 1898, the 
Board records its gratitude to God for the signal service 
Dr. Thompson has rendered during this time, not only 
to the work of Presbyterian Home Missions, but to the 
whole cause of American evangelization. 

“During his administration and under his leadership 
many of the departments that have been most effective 
in reaching exceptional populations and handling excep- 
tional problems (such as, Church and Country Life, 
City and Immigrant Work, etc.) were inaugurated. We 
rejoice that he is still with us and we now assure him of 
our profound affection and admiration, and of our 


267 


268 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


prayer that we may long have the delight of fellowship 
and the inspiration of his presence with us. 

“To signalize this quarter century of fruitful service, 
the Board expresses its intention to erect on one of its 
fields, as soon as it is able, a Charles L. Thompson Me- 
morial Building.”—E-xtract from Minutes of the Board 
of Home Missions of meeting held April 26th, 1923. 


The Board of*National Missions of the Presbyterian 
Church in the U.S. A. 


The Board of National Missions would hereby 
make recognition of the loss sustained in the very 
recent death of Secretary Charles L. Thompson, D.D., 
LL.D. His long and brilliant service to the cause of 
Home Missions is a most notable contribution to the 
church and the Kingdom. In him were happily com- 
bined the elements of character and accomplishment 
that constrained admiration, provoked confidence and 
made for acknowledged Christian statesmariship. 

Whether as faithful Home Missionary pastor, bril- 
liant preacher in great city pulpits, Moderator of 
Assembly, Secretary of the Board of Home Missions, 
organizer and President of the Home Missions Coun- 
cil (Interdenominational), or as representative to in- 
ternational ecclesiastical gatherings, in all places and 
at all times his one absorbing passion was for the set- 
ting forward the interests of the Kingdom through 
constructive missionary policies. 

While deeply conscious of our loss of his fine fel- 
lowship, personal friendship, wise counsels and in- 
spiring leadership, we appreciate the greater loss to 
the members of the charmed circle of his home. May 
the assurance of the “ well-done-for-well-doing ” ac- 
corded of the Master as welcome to the Heavenly 


APPRECIATIONS 269 


Home temper their sense of sorrow. To them we 
extend our heartfelt sympathy. 

We know that “there is a prince and a great man 
fallen this day in Israel.” We would take new devo- 
tion to the things that commanded his every ambition 
and would here re-dedicate ourselves to the enlarging 
tasks committed to our hands that there may be af- 
forded a consecration more worthy the name we bear 
and a little more adequate to the cause we serve. 


MEMorIAL TO CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON BY THE 
Homes Misstons CouNcIL. 


One of the outstanding leaders in the field of Home 
Missions passed away in the death of Dr. Charles 
Lemuel Thompson, April 14th, 1924. At the time of 
his death Dr. Thompson was secretary-emeritus of 
the Board of National Missions of the Presbyterian 
Church of the United States of America and was 
president of the Home Missions Council. 

To Dr. Thompson, the Presbyterian church and the 
catise of Home Missions in America owe a large debt. 
He conceived of the missionary task of the church in 
large and generous terms. Not content to simply plan 
churches on the western frontier and in newly devel- 
oping communities, he planned for and began to ad- 
minister the tasks of his office in such forms as prac- 
tically to create a New Home Missions. 

At the same time Dr. Thompson entertained a 
broader conception of the Kingdom of Christ than to 
think of it as being embodied solely in one denomi- 
nation. It was he who with others like the late 
Hubert C. Herring, conceived the idea of the Home 
Missions Council, which was organized in 1908. He 
became its first president and remained in that posi- 


270 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


tion until the time of his death. With a wise and 
judicious hand he guided the development of the 
Home Missions Council until, having passed through 
the preliminary stages of being little more than an 
annual gathering in which a certain amount of good- 
will was expressed and a measure of cooperative 
spirit was released, it became a real storehouse of in- 
formation, a strong and effective agency for uniting 
forty-three different boards and societies of twenty- 
seven different denominations in common plans and 
real unity of purpose and action. Under his adminis- 
tration a wide sweep of fellowship, of contacts, of 
relations and of cooperations was made, which em- 
brace subsidiary Home Missions Councils, under 
varying names, in many states of the central west and 
the northwest, and to no small extent in such distant 
places as Alaska, the Hawaiian Islands, Porto Rico, 
Cuba and Santo Domingo. 

He was always large hearted and sympathetic. As 
a pacifier he was well-nigh incomparable. For many 
years past no clerical organization and no special 
church function seemed complete without his presence 
and without some utterance from his charming spirit. 


Federal Council of the Churches of Chrest in 
America. 


The following memorial on the death of Dr. 
Charles L. Thompson, prepared by Dr. Anthony, was 
read and adopted by a rising vote. Dr. Speer ex- 
pressed in prayer the thanksgiving of the Committee 
for the life and service of Dr. Thompson. 


“Dr. Charles Lemuel Thompson, who died April 
14, 1924, in the eighty-fifth year of his age, closed a 
career of efficient and eminent service, brilliant as 


APPRECIATIONS 271 


preacher, administrator and home mission expert, 
and leaves behind, in the minds of all who knew him, 
memories of affection and influence, lasting and 
inspiring. 

“Serving in the ministry of the Presbyterian 
Church in the United States of America, he had oc- 
cupied many important pulpits, the last of which was 
that of the Madison Avenue Presbyterian Church of 
New York City, which he left in 1898 to become the 
General Secretary of the Board of Home Missions of 
the Presbyterian Church in the U. S. A., an office 
which he held until 1914, and thereafter until his 
death, sustained as Secretary Emeritus. 

“It was Dr. Thompson’s distinction as a home mis- 
sion administrator to conceive and carry into effect 
many of the policies which have since come to be 
regarded as the commonplaces of home mission ad- 
ministration. To him, the problems of home missions 
were not mainly those of territorial expansion; he saw 
the necessity of receiving and assimilating the im- 
pressive stream of immigrants to this country, of 
Christianizing and guiding the industrial enterprises 
of the nation and of bringing the messages of the gos- 
pel in intelligible and effective forms to the many 
groups and classes of people and to the followers of 
strange cults and strange religions in all parts of the 
country, in the cities and in the hamlets, in places 
where the lumberman went in partial isolation, where 
the miners were, and among the mountaineers. He 
was one of the earlier statesmen of American mis- 
sions to see the task as a whole and to fit the agencies 
of the church for specialized and particular types of 
missionary endeavor. 

“At the same time Dr. Thompson entertained a 
broader conception of the onward movement of the 


272 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


kingdom of Christ than to think of it as being em- 
bodied solely in one denomination. He was singu- 
larly interdenominationally minded and sought fel- 
lowship with others who were working at similar 
tasks to his own. He, with others like the late Hu- 
bert C. Herring, conceived the idea of correlating and 
coordinating the home missionary activities of the 
different denominational boards in the Home Mis- 
sions Council, which was organized in 1908. Dr. 
Charles L. Thompson became its first president, and 
remained in that position until his death. 

“He was always large hearted, cordial, sympa- 
thetic, touching every task, no matter how serious or 
how grave and important, with a gentle element of 
mirth and pleasantry which helped to illuminate many 
an otherwise dark and perplexing problem and re- 
lieved the strain of nerve and weariness when he and 
his associates had struggled along in the midst of 
conflicting interests. His gentle spirit seemed to 
triumph over difficulties and obstacles. 

“To Dr. Thompson was given in no small degree 
the poet’s faculty of discerning beauty and of inter- 
preting creative forces, both in nature and amongst 
men. His authorship included not simply historical 
accounts of his denomination and volumes upon the 
progress of the Kingdom of Christ in American life, 
but also the poetic products of an active imagination 
and interpretive genius. He was a member of the 
Author’s Club and of other similar organizations 
which have been delighted to give him honor and 
share in his fellowship. One of his biographers has 
termed him ‘A Poet in Bonds,’ meaning thereby that 
the poetic vision which he so largely possessed was 
somewhat bound down and checked in its fuller ex- 
pression by the duties of his administrative office. 


APPRECIATIONS 273 


“In comradeship and fellowship none surpassed 
him. | 

“We speak these few words as a tribute of affec- 
tion and gratitude for his life and his achievements.” 


CHARLES L. THoMPSON—-A Port IN Bonps 
By Warren H. Wilson, Ph.D. 


“A long life was this of Charles L. Thompson, 
who died at Atlantic City, April 14, 1924. He was 
born in August, 1839, before the tide of immigration 
began to flow from Europe, and he died in the year 
in which it is limited by law to a minute per cent. of 
the numbers to whom he gave the gospel. He was 
ordained to be a home missionary when those humble 
preachers faced westward in 1861, and before 1914 
he had become the commander of the organized forces 
of the churches facing eastward to evangelize the mil- 
lions of the cities. He was a preacher at twenty-two, 
calling sinners to repentance on the unbroken prairies. 
When he was seventy-five he entered Geneva as a 
delegate of the Peace Conference which was to call 
kings and emperors to repent of war. Who shall say 
that Wisconsin and Missouri farmers repented more 
sincerely than the Hohenzollerns and Hapsburgs? 
To both of them he was a romantic, a seer, and a 
prophet. They were practical men. But when the 
captains and the kings depart, and the long span of 
his life is viewed as a whole, one sees Wisconsin now 
peopled with churches and repentant, we may hope, 
of pioneer sins; while Europe is converted to the hat- 
red of war. 

“He saw with a man’s eye the course of our two 
greatest wars—the one that made us a united nation, 
and the one that made us an international power. 


274 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


This home missionary became the administrator of 
religion on a national scale and served as diplomat for 
Christ in world concerns of the spirit. He led Ameri- 
can churches, through the Home Missions Council, in 
united acts for the peoples in jeopardy on the nation’s 
margin, and he steadfastly looked over seas in the 
later years for world-peace and unity. 

“If the poet is a divinely stirred man, and, as some 
believe, the one source of human improvement be- 
cause of his faith, and stirs the imagination of others, 
then Dr. Thompson was a poet; for he stirred men to 
do what he never did himself. All his friends knew 
that he was a poet. His verses are few, but he 
greeted all seasons and holidays with a lyric voice. 
His oratory was the rhetoric of deep organ tones. 
But—more than all he said or wrote—was the poet’s 
outlook on life. It characterized him. He was al- 
ways a romantic. 

““A suppressed poet, however, for he came at a 
prosaic time and spoke its language. What is a poet 
without language? The early Victorian period in 
which he acquired his vocabulary was austere and 
given to euphemisms. He had the urge. He was 
moved to music. But to his spirit the phrases of the 
sixties, when he learned to speak, were as inadequate | 
as a melodeon would be in the hands of a great organ- 
ist. No doubt the decorum of the pastorate restrained 
the expressions of his brilliant, many-flashing mind. 
He was not born to see Greenwich Village at twenty, 
or we might have had a rival to Vachel Lindsay. He 
was born to see Wisconsin at twenty and was or- 
dained at twenty-two, after studying at Princeton 
when it was a fresh-water college town and at Mc- 
Cormick Seminary in Chicago before the fire. He 
learned oratory in the same school that trained Grady 


-APPRECIATIONS 275 


and Bryan, but he needed the flexible medium of free 
verse to express his interest in all things that lived. 

“It was the poetical quality in him that inspired so 
many different persons. His own family evidence 
the imprisoned genius of his spirit, which has flowed 
forth in their varied and brilliant careers. Think of 
the many men he made to sing and to march. Charles 
Stelzle, the mechanics’ preacher, was inspired to be 
the master of crowds; and the Lumberjack Frank 
Higgins to be a friend of millionaires; John Dixon 
and Ernest McAfee to be his yoke-fellows in adminis- 
tration. The leaders of competing home mission 
boards he moved to abolish guerrila warfare of the 
religious frontier. Charles L. Thompson was like 
John Bunyan. But the prison in which his spirit 
burned was the conventional restraint of the nine- 
teenth century. 

“ He was a great pastor. He served two churches 
in rural Wisconsin, one in Cincinnati, Chicago, Pitts- 
burgh, Kansas City, and New York, each in general 
longer than the preceding. He was a New York 
pastor in the last decade of the nineteenth century, 
when ministers still wore frock coats. He became a 
Secretary of the Presbyterian Board of Home Mis- 
sions when the office consisted in large part of dignity, 
but had behind it little of organization. Charles L. 
Thompson had at least four consecutive careers which 
he drove tandem, and he enjoyed three more on the 
side. He was a home missionary before Wisconsin 
had begun to be rich and intellectual, a pastor in New 
York when it was a fashionable, church-going island, 
a secretary during the infancy of Protestant church 
administration, and a Christian diplomat through the 
creative decades in which the churches formed their 
‘Holy Alliance.’ Three months before his death he 


276 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


sat at Atlantic City in the chair of greatest power 
this side of Rome, the Presidency of the Home 
Missions Council. He was its first President at its 
formation in 1908, and it was the one duty he held 
when he died. 

“Only a few now living can recall ‘ Charlie 
Thompson,’ the young home missionary in the ‘ Mid- 
dle Border,’ who was preaching in Wisconsin when 
Hamlin Garland, a dreamy lad, looked out from the 
farmhouse in the coulee. The career of his known to 
most men now living began when he was sixty. At 
that time he became Secretary of the Board of Home 
Missions. ‘That service he laid down in 1914, when 
he was seventy-five. The members of that Board are 
mostly gone from this life. Their meetings with him 
now will not fail of a quorum. He came to the Board 
when it was at 53 Fifth Avenue, and his office had 
but one clerk. He left it in 1914 an elaborate organ- 
ization for national service, with departments adapted 
to express the sympathy of Christians for Indians, 
Mexicans, wage earners, farmers, immigrants, Alas- 
kans. His program of service was generously en- 
dowed by millionaires, enriched by a steady stream of 
legacies that evidence the confidence of lawyers, and | 
it was sustained by an outflow of increasing contri- 
butions. His plans were challenged by many and at- 
tacked at one time by organized conservatism. But 
his program had irresistible power of growth and it 
has not been either halted or turned back. It forms 
now the present basis of organization of the Home 
Boards of all denominations. When some Presby- 
terians were hesitant about following Charles L. 
Thompson all other Protestants fell in line behind 
him as their obvious chief and beloved commander. 
After he ceased to command the Presbyterian organ- 


APPRECIATIONS 277 


ization he continued to preside for ten years over the 
Protestants. 

“No languor of old age for this youthful spirit. 
His oratory was indeed that of Storrs and Beecher; 
his looks and bearing were of the statesmen like Glad- 
stone and McKinley—and his leadership continued 
into the day in which ministers speak and look like 
business men—though his rhetorical methods were of 
them both. But he survived as a loving, gallant heart, 
tender to all women, with a wit suitable to every oc- 
casion, long after he had made his last great speech 
and moderated his last General Assembly. He kept 
a greatness of spirit with him, without pretense, al- 
ways affable, merry, witty; yet unbending from the 
vision and the romance which held up his head to 
the last. 

“ He had the poet’s tragic sufferings to bear. Some 
of the blows that crushed Job fell on him, but he 
seemed to rise calmly through trouble. He always 
faced adversity with gallant look and gentle manners. 
And if he had moments of depression he never ap- 
pealed to his associates for sympathy by peevishness 
or punished the bystanders by resenting the acts of 
his associates. There must have been the conviction 
of God’s goodness in Dr. Thompson’s heart more deep 
and high than most men have, for nothing either bad 
or good, either hard or easy, disturbed his manner. 
His bearing had to his last year the debonair confi- 
dence of knight or prince who is sure of himself. 

“ Dr. Thompson had two great qualities that are not 
usually found in the romantic. He was a rare execu- 
tive. During his years as Secretary of the Home 
Mission Board he surrounded himself with assistants 
until their offices filled nearly two floors. But he was 
their chief. All decisions of the office were his de- 


278 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


cisions. His organization was that of a military staff. 
The Board members then resident in and near New 
York were equally obedient to his plans. Meetings of 
the Board during sixteen years consisted of the read- 
ing of his proposals from the desk and the unanimous 
support of them by the members. I have heard an old 
member say that he did not recall a single issue in 
which the Board refused to support the Secretary or 
passed a divided vote. 

“A quality equally great was his sympathy with the 
marginal people. The great population movements 
found ready response in the mind of this clergyman. 
In his seventh decade, when organized labor became 
strong and aloof, he called Charles Stelzle to create a 
Labor Department. When immigrants thronged the 
gates of the land, ignorant of our ways and far from 
their own pastors, he called William P. Shriver to a 
Department of Immigration and sent brilliant stu- 
dents upon graduation, not to study the libraries, but 
the language and the ways of the peoples whose chil- 
dren were in need of Christian ministry here. Mexi- 
cans came across our borders and he sent the Mc- 
Leans to shepherd them. Lumber camps appeared in 
the great woods and he was quick to send Frank Hig- 
gins as their apostle, to equip and reinforce him. 
Church and Country Life was his title for the work 
I was given to do. This responsiveness of Dr. 
Thompson’s heart was perhaps greater, but no dif- 
ferent, than the same quality in some other men. But 
it was practical in him and he had the executive abil- 
ity to mobilize his growing forces, to find supplies, to 
equip and to inspire the leaders. One might come to 
Dr. Thompson from any part, with any plan, and he 
gave attentive hearing, swift decision and firm action. 
Let the same man come a year later, or two years, and 


APPRECIATIONS 279 


the matter stood clear in the mind of the great Secre- 
tary. It was reopened as a going interest, considered 
with unflagging buoyancy, and redirected for the new 
future. So that men got in the habit of bringing to 
him the needs of classes and groups of people to 
whom the gospel would be a comfort and a stay. 
“Those great sympathies of his reorganized our 
whole Church work. When Charles Lemuel Thomp- 
son began to preach he was a Presbyterian, and I sup- 
pose he never revised radically his doctrinal outlook. 
But he transformed the doctrinal Presbyterianism of 
1861 until at his death the work of his church is ani- 
mated by a great pity, a love of the poor and the 
weak, a service as great as the nation and as mani- 
fold as there are men on the earth. He emerged by 
the pity and imagination that moved him from de- 
nominational service to a Christian sympathy and 
understanding in which the Protestant peoples are 
one. It is very fitting that he remained until his death 
the presiding officer of Protestant active service in 
America. 
“Tt seems to me that Charles Lemuel Thompson 
was both in his faith, which was too great for prose, 
and in the bondage which kept him regular, a Chris- 
tian. He had faith and sacrifice. The faith was the 
spirit of a great artist and the sacrifice fell only upon 
himself. Happy life to live so long, until we who 
knew him were the companions only of his old age!” 


CHARLES L. THOMPSON 
By Hermann N. Morse. 

“Charles L. Thompson was many things in his 
time—home missionary, master of a great metropoli- 
tan pulpit, Moderator of the General Assembly, edi- 
tor, poet, historian, board secretary. In any single 


280 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


one of his many roles he might have won a distinction 
great enough to make him long remembered and 
greatly honored. Taking them all together he stands 
out as one of the most influential and eminent church- 
men of his time. 

“It is his religious statesmanship that impresses 
one who knew him only in the closing years of his 
life, and then not intimately, but who has known inti- 
mately two institutions to which he gave his best years 
of service, the Presbyterian Board of Home Missions 
and the Home Missions Council. In them he gave 
form and substance to his vision and his ideals. They 
embody his two great passions—an America won for 
Christ, won in every phase and aspect of its life, and 
a Protestantism united in His service. 

“In the nineties the Board of Home Missions had 
fallen upon evil days. The great impetus of the pre- 
ceding decades had spent itself. Those had been 
glorious days in the annals of the church, when, fol- 
lowing the Reunion, under the wise leadership of 
Henry Kendall and Cyrus Dickson, the Board set its 
face to the West and sent its missionaries along every 
homesteader’s trail to the remotest settlements on the 
frontier. Dickson, the orator, and Kendall, the or- 
ganizer, fanned the interest of the church into a 
flame and won the support that enabled the Board to 
keep abreast of its task in rapidly moving days. But 
there were no such leaders to take up what they, in 
due course, laid down. The Board became heavily 
involved in debt. It began to lose the confidence of 
the church. Then in 1897 the General Assembly re- 
organized the Board and authorized the selection of 
one general secretary to direct its policies. The posi- 
tion was offered to Dr. Thompson, then pastor of the 
Madison Avenue Presbyterian Church of New York 


APPRECIATIONS 281 


City. He accepted and began his duties in the fol- 
lowing year. He remained as General Secretary until 
1914 and thereafter, until his death, was Secretary 
Emeritus. 

“It was Dr. Thompson’s distinction that he con- 
ceived and carried into effect many of the policies 
which have since come to be regarded as the com- 
monplaces of home mission administration, so much 
so that it is easy to overlook how great a debt we owe 
him. The contrast between 1898 and 1924 is start- 
ling. For a hundred years home missions had been 
concerned mainly with the problem of territorial ex- 
pansion. The thought of the Church was absorbed 
with the fact that the country was growing, that new 
territory was opening up, that men were on the march 
seeking new homes, that a thousand new communi- 
ties were calling for the Church. The program of 
home missions changed very little in a hundred years, 
except that as the itinerant missionary followed the 
moving frontier the settled pastor took his place. To 
be sure the Assembly, from time to time, debated the 
particular problems of the city or the country or the 
immigrant. Here and there peculiar situations in- 
sistently challenged attention. The Indian was from 
the first an object of concern. New Mexico was 
recognized to be different, and Utah, and Alaska. 
But it was largely an undifferentiated service, reach- 
ing usually the normal elements of the American 
population. | 

“Dr. Thompson saw that the single conception of 
home mission work was no longer tenable since the 
uniformity of circumstance which it presupposed no 
longer existed. We had become an intricately com- 
posite people. He saw that particular problems re- 
quire particular methods and that a great central 


282 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


purpose must modify its approach according to the 
circumstances which it faces. That idea, which was 
soon to become the new orthodoxy, was, when it was 
first put into operation, looked at askance by a church 
which had never consciously concerned itself with 
problems of adaptation. But its implications were in- 
escapable when one saw what was being done to the 
Church by the tremendous growth of cities, the rapid 
influx of foreigners, the moving tides of migration 
from country to city, the rapid industrial expansion, 
the increasing tension between employer and worker 
and the many fundamental changes taking place in the 
' industrial and social balance of our national life. 
“Once the Board was freed from debt, which was 
soon accomplished, it was Dr. Thompson’s task to 
shape an organization that could adapt its program 
to these many sided problems. Nineteen hundred and 
three saw two forward steps in the establishment of a 
‘Workingmen’s Department’ and the organization of 
the first distinctly Mountain Presbytery. In 1908 the 
Workingmen’s Department became the Department 
of Church and Labor and, in 1911, the Bureau of 
Social Service. Galvanized by Charles Stelzle’s dyna- 
mic personality it became a genuine national force. 
In 1908 the Department of Immigration was estab- 
lished, which later became the Department of City 
and Immigrant Work; and in the same year a Depart- 
ment of Indian Missions. A definite and distinctive 
work in the lumber camps was begun at this time. 
In 1910, after a year of preliminary study, a Depart- 
ment of Church and Country Life was created. 
When W. P. Shriver and W. H. Wilson were 
brought into the Board’s service, adequate consider- 
_ ation began to be given to those two most character- 
istic and fundamental aspects of the church’s problem, 


APPRECIATIONS 283 


the city and the country. Stelzle and Wilson adapted 
the methods of the social survey to the uses of the 
church. The demonstration idea was developed, the 
idea of selecting strategic places for experimentation 
in methods and demonstration of results. In 1914 a 
Department of Mexican Work was added. 

“These new ideas did not have all clear sledding 
from the first. The church hailed them and then 
criticized them. Stelzle left under fire and one Gen- 
eral Assembly abolished the Department of Church 
and Country Life, only to have the next Assembly re- 
establish it. But they were sound ideas and they won 
out and are today the commonplaces of all the larger 
mission boards, which have developed their organiza- 
tions and programs in recognition of the composite 
nature of the home mission enterprise. 7 

“The problem of inter-denominational comity was 
not really a very serious one until the days of rapid 
expansion following the Civil War. But from that 
time on it steadily became more grave and perplexing. 
Dr. Thompson gave enthusiastic and generous support 
to every movement toward comity and cooperation. 
The first important achievement in this direction was 
the zoning of Porto Rico in 1901, by which denomina- 
tional over-lapping was completely prevented. In 
1908 a step of the utmost importance was taken in the 
formation of the Home Missions Council. Dr. 
Thompson was one of the prime movers in its organ- 
ization and was its first president, continuing in that 
office until his death. His wise judgment, patience 
and far-seeing leadership have contributed not a little 
to its steadily growing influence and effectiveness. 
His last public appearance was at the annual meeting 
of the Council in January last. 

“Here is a man whom we know not how to praise 


284 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


as he deserves. We cannot yet measure the effects of 
these things that he has achieved. There can be no 
doubt that a large measure of the present effectiveness 
of the church in the discharge of its mission task here 
in America is due to the new conception of that task 
for which he, more than any other man, is responsible. 
It is not, therefore, too high praise to speak of him as 
the outstanding religious statesman of this generation.” 


CHarLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
Editorial in the Presbyterian Advance. 


“ After sixty-three years in the Presbyterian minis- 
try, Charles Lemuel Thompson, the most widely 
known and honored Presbyterian of his generation, 
passed away on April 14 in his eighty-fifth year. 

“ Hearts are sad, a keen sense of personal loss op- 
presses people all over the United States, as the news 
travels that Dr. Chas. L. Thompson has been called 
home. His noble spirit, his statesmanlike vision, his 
powerful presentations of world need and Christian 
duty, his wise counsel, his warm fellowship, his genu- 
ine brotherliness toward high and low made him one 
of the best loved, most trusted and most inspiring and 
helpful leaders our great church—no, American 
Protestantism—ever possessed and honored and de- 
pended on. Absolutely dependable was Dr. Thomp- 
son, and many of us feel that one of the strong stays 
of life has been taken away in the passing of this 
father in Israel. But his had been a long life. The 
welcome home is richly deserved.” 


GALLANT SOUL—STATESMAN’S MIND 
Editorial in The Continent. 
“A strong man’s meed of honor belongs to the be- 


APPRECIATIONS 285 


loved memory of Dr. Charles L. Thompson, just now 
gone before. A strong man indeed—and yet one of 
the gentlest of souls. He served greatly, but he took 
no greatness to himself—always he was one among 
his brethren unconscious of distinction and ready with 
the openest heart to share anybody’s burden. 

“ His denomination called on him in a time of bitter 
contention among home mission leaders to become the 
reconciling chief of its Home Board. Strength was 
required, and boldness too, to enter into that tense 
situation. Yet strength and boldness alone would not 
have made bad matters better. Added was Dr. 
Thompson’s just and equable kindliness, which early 
commanded the trustful good will of all parties to 
former disagreements. So fortified, he moved stead- 
ily on to successes that must be historic. For almost 
two decades he was the inspiring leader of the greatest 
advance in this aspect of Christian service that the 
Presbyterian Church has yet made in any equal 
period. 

“ Within this time there came about the great change 
in American conditions which has been described as 
the “reversal of the American frontier.” The old 
task of planting churches in new communities of the 
great west approached completion. At the same time 
the influx of aliens into the eastern and central states 
created other communities more needy religiously 
than the west’s pioneer villages had ever been. Mean- 
while, also, the oldtime country church, which had 
been the very fountain of the nation’s piety, was dis- 
covered in grievous decay. Home missions perforce 
had to turn its face east to the original seat of 
Americanism. 

“This altered face of his board’s task Dr. Thomp- 
son recognized with direct and positive measures. The 


286 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


creation of departments for the immigrants and for 
the country church was a radical acknowledgment of 
new duties ina new time. But these innovations were 
minor compared with what Dr. Thompson did when 
he invited Charles Stelzle from St. Louis to create 
within the board a ‘ department of labor.’ This was 
the first extension of home missions into the realm of 
the social gospel, and the results that have flowed 
from it mark the act as epoch-making. All men of 
understanding today applaud it as notable statesman- 
ship. But then quite naturally it was not wholly 
understood. 

“ Opposing reactions were intensified by the fact that 
at the same time Dr. Thompson was moving as boldly 
in another direction. His soul revolted at economic 
waste and unspiritual bigotry cursing towns where 
rival evangelical churches, kept up by home mission 
money, were fighting for possession of ground where 
only one or two could survive in strength. To secure 
a comity that would forestall this unchristian conflict, 
Dr. Thompson brought about the organization of the 
interdenominational Home Mission Council, of which 
he continued president till his death and through 
which has been wrought a vast diminution of rivalry 
which this great secretary hated.” 


A Home MIssIoNArY STATESMAN 
From The Missionary Review of the World. 


“ Seventy-four years ago a pioneer home mission- 
ary riding horseback in Wisconsin discovered a boy’s 
red cloak in the road. He pushed on and soon dis- 
covered the boy and won his lifelong friendship. 
Under the guidance of that home missionary and in 
answer to a mother’s prayers, that boy was diligent in 


APPRECIATIONS 287 


his studies and finally went to Carroll College, where 
he was graduated at nineteen. He entered Princeton 
Theological Seminary and was graduated from 
Northwest Seminary (now McCormick). Years of 
effective pastoral work followed in Juneau and Janes- 
ville, Wisconsin, and in Cincinnati, Chicago, Pitts- 
burgh, Kansas City and New York. 

“In times of civil and ecclesiastical strife and in 
the equal perils of peace and plenty Charles L. 
Thompson thus served many kinds of churches from 
frontier to metropolitan, among rich and poor, down- 
town and on the avenues. He showed versatility and 
unusual ability as a preacher, orator, poet, editor and 
administrator. In 1888, when he was pastor of the 
Second Church in Kansas City, then the most influ- 
ential church in the Central West, years before he 
became noted as an executive and missionary leader, 
he was elected Moderator of the Centennial General 
Assembly. He was called soon after to the Madison 
Avenue Church of New York City, and during his 
ten years’ pastorate there, was a member of the Board 
of Home Missions, of which he became the General 
Secretary in 1898. In this capacity he served sixteen 
years and ten years more as Secretary Emeritus. Up 
to the end he continued to devote much of his time 
and energy to promotional work for the Board and 
for the Church at large as represented in the Federal 
Council of the Churches of Christ in America, and in 
the Home Missions Council, which he founded in 
1908, and of which he was President for sixteen 
years. His last public appearance was at its annual 
meeting in Atlantic City last January. 

“Dr. Thompson’s literary labors were varied and 
fruitful. He was one of the founders of ‘Our 
Monthly,’ which had a brief career in Cincinnati, 


288 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 


with a brilliant resurrection in ‘ The Interior’ in Chi- 
cago, long edited by himself and Dr. W. C. Gray, and 
now continued in ‘The Continent.’ He published 
many poems, delved into the study of the beginnings 
of America and published volumes on ‘Times of Re- 
freshing’ (a history of American Revivals), ‘ The 
Story of the Presbyterian Church,’ ‘ Religious Foun- 
dations of America,’ ‘The Soul of America,’ and 
‘Etchings in Verse.’ 

“Dr. Thompson was always intimately associated 
with strong men. Many of them were fighters, but 
his only fights were for righteousness and for the ad- 
vancement and unity of the Church he loved, not a 
sectarian organization but the Kingdom of Christ on 
earth. 

“Probably few realize how much Dr. Thompson 
did along educational lines. Long before he became 
Secretary of the Home Board and had to do officially 
with the Presbyterian mission schools, he had been 
active as a trustee of the Western University of Penn- 
sylvania and of Park College, as well as of various 
academies. Probably his last interview on church 
work was with President J. Will Harris, head of 
the Polytechnic Institute of Porto Rico, which is to 
have a memorial building to testify to Dr. Thomp- 
son’s interest in the Christian training of Latin 
America. 

“No other man has contributed more to the 
Church’s conception of the greatness and variety of 
its Home Mission task. To his leadership and far- 
seeing wisdom is chiefly due the great extension of 
the service of the Home Board during the opening 
years of the twentieth century. 

“Men of smaller caliber or of weaker Christian 
character could not have stood the tests Dr. Thomp- 


APPRECIATIONS 289 


son stood. Under a mere fraction of the public difh- 
culties and, the private afflictions he suffered many a 
strong man has gone down, or at least has been so 
embittered as to lose for a time his hold on himself 
and on his God. Dr. Thompson’s faith but grew 
sweet and strong with the years. His influence will 
be correspondingly more lasting. 


“One cannot yet measure the full results of his 
achievements, but a large measure of the present ef- 
fectiveness of the Church in the discharge of its 
mission task in America is due to the conception of 
that task for which he is largely responsible. 


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